


In every truth that you deny

by smaragdbird



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of letting Draco join the DeathEaters Narcissa and Lucius prevent this event at a high price. While coming to terms with his parents' decision and its consequences Draco begins to get lost in his own feelings towards Blaise and the blatant flirting from a Gryffindor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Snape had never been too fond of Azkaban, but then no one was fond of Azkaban, not even the Dementors, which their uprising had proved. However, even with less of those creatures, Azkaban was an uncomfortable place, cold and damp and gloomy.  
'Lucius.' Snape nodded to his old friend through the cell bars. The environment had taken its toll on Lucius Malfoy but his grey eyes had remained the same. Lucius' cell was 2x2 metres with a cot and a bucket. For someone who had lived with house elves all his life Lucius' cell was remarkably clean but then there was nothing to do around here.  
'Severus,' the other man replied. Snape had never seen his friend like this. Lucius looked not only disarrayed and unclean but like he wanted to squirm out of his skin.  
'Why did you want to see me?' Azkaban was no place for polite small talk.  
'How is Draco?' Lucius asked instead.  
'As well as expected, with his father being arrested,' Snape answered.  
'The Dark Lord hasn't approached him yet?' It sounded hopeful, too hopeful for someone who claimed to be a devoted follower, but Snape knew Lucius long and good enough to know that his first and foremost devotion lay with his wife and his child.  
'No,' Snape answered simply. 'Do you expect that he will?'  
'He will, you know that.' Through the bars, Lucius grabbed Snape's wrist. 'You have to protect Draco. Don't let him pay for my mistakes.'  
'You want me to shield your son from our Master?'  
'He's a child, Severus. He's your godson and he looks up to you. He will do what you tell him.'  
They could hear steps approaching. The prisoners weren't meant to be alone with their visitors but Dumbledore had put in a good word for Severus.  
'Severus, please.' Lucius gritted out between his teeth.  
'You know the consequences for you and Narcissa?'  
'We both know.'  
'I'll protect him.'  
'Do you swear?' Lucius asked urgently.  
'I'll swear the unbreakable vow to Narcissa.' Snape withstood the urge to roll his eyes because this urge wasn't the least bit appropriate in this situation, but as usual Lucius underestimated Severus' own fondness of Draco.  
A Ministry official came around the corner and looked curiously from Lucius to Snape. It was expected but still annoyed Snape. They weren't some kind of circus animals.  
'I'll give your family your best wishes then.' Snape said curtly.  
'Thank you.' Lucius replied before the official accompanied Snape to the exit where a boat waited. The day was stormy and Snape thankful that he had had the foresight to drink an anti-sea-sickness-potion.  
He hadn't made a light promise to Lucius. Snape knew that his friend was right when it came to the Dark Lord. He knew his followers weaknesses and Lucius' weakness was his family. To punish Draco would hurt the most and set an example that would stay in mind. Many Death Eaters had children.  
Draco, like Lucius, wasn't a very likable person, too self-confident, too intelligent, too arrogant and too few morals, but friendship made one more forgiving and lenient. And Snape liked the boy, had known him since he was born and had a box full of letters in scratchy handwriting and full of mistakes with childish questions about when he would come for Christmas or summer and with Draco's latest success with a new potion.  
Likable or not, Lucius, Draco and Narcissa were the closest thing Severus had to a family and as a true Slytherin, family and friends mattered more than reputation or morals.

Draco was more than relieved to board the Hogwarts express. His summer vacations had been less than exciting. After a few silent days at home his mother had sent him to some distant relative in New Zealand where he had spent seven weeks doing Muggle work with sheep. There had been no other boys or girls, just a handful old men and Draco knew now why exactly his father had never mentioned this particular relative before.  
He never wanted to see or hear or smell a single sheep again. And he had a bad feeling that he may never be able to eat mutton again without thinking of Cindy or Chris or any other of his great-cousin-uncle-whatever sheep.  
His duty as prefect would have included harassing the new students, but he didn't feel like it. The conversation between his mother and Snape that he had overheard a few days ago still haunted him.  
He managed to avoid Potter and any of his devoted followers and joined Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Theo and Blaise in a compartment.  
'Hi, Draco.' Pansy greeted him cheerfully. 'How was your summer?'  
'Boring.' Draco said shortly, but then, because she was his friend, he asked. 'How was yours?'  
And Pansy began to chat about her vacations in France with her parents and skiing with her uncle in the Swiss Alps. Draco made the appropriate comments at the right moments while his thoughts drifted back to Snape and his mother a few days ago.

'Narcissa, it would be safer for all of you.' Snape sounded like he had said this argument several times before.  
'No, Lucius and I agree on this,' his mother answered harshly. Draco knew this tone. It meant that his mother was absolutely adamant on her opinion.  
'His vengeance will not be easy on you if you do not give him the boy you're the first who will suffer.'  
'I cannot believe that you consider giving Draco over.'  
'Your sister would say that you should be proud.'  
'Bella has no own child of her own and she's mad.'  
'I just want you to consider all of your options. You see the impact Lucius' imprisonment has on him. Do you think it will be easier for him to hear that his mother has vanished or has been tortured to madness or killed? He's intelligent enough to draw the right conclusion. Don't you think he will blame himself? And Azkaban isn't as safe as the Ministry wants to believe either. Do you honestly think that he's better off as an orphan?' But his mother interrupted him with an impatient gesture.  
'Lucius and I have talked about this, Severus. Neither of us could bear the loss of our child.'  
'Very well, Narcissa. I wish you good luck.'  
'For you, too Severus. You will need it more than me.'  
Snape grunted as if he disagreed but didn't want to start an argument again.

Draco's thoughts came back to the present when the door of their compartment opened and a young boy out his head in.  
'Blaise Zabini?'  
Blaise made an affirmative noise and the boy gave him a parchment roll with a flustered look. Blaise usually had that effect on people.  
'From Professor Slughorn.' All that was missing was the sir. As the door closed behind the boy, Pansy asked, 'Professor Slughorn?'  
'Probably our new DADA teacher.' Theodore said without looking up from his book.   
Pansy made a face at him and asked Blaise,  
'What does he want from you?'  
'Some kind of meeting for some of the students.' Blaise sounded bored but it peaked Draco's interest.  
'He was Snape's potion master,' he told his friends.  
'Maybe he wants to meet his UTZ students,' Pansy said. Theodor snorted derisively. He and Pansy just didn't get along.  
'Then he would have invited Draco as well.'  
That triggered an equally sharp reply from Pansy, and the two began to bicker. Draco's interest wavered. It was tempting just to look out of the window and let his thoughts drift back when Blaise suddenly yawned and stretched. He hadn't put on his uniform yet and his t-shirt rode up enough to reveal his toned and muscular stomach. Draco felt his heart beat faster and his cheeks heated. When Blaise slumped back in his seat, Draco's eyes observed his face carefully. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed this before, but Blaise was handsome. He was absolutely, utterly beautiful.  
Something twisted in Draco's stomach and he had to look away. This was inappropriate. Not only the time and place but also with his father in prison and his mother in danger he had more important things to think about than Blaise's physical appearance.  
'Hey Draco!' Blaise tossed him a choco frog,'Quit daydreaming.'  
'I was comparing Ginny Weasley and Astoria Greengrass,' Draco lied with a leering face.  
'Yeah?' Blaise obviously didn't believe him. 'Who won?'  
'Is that a question?' Draco asked disbelievingly, 'Gryffindor. Slytherin.' He made a gesture with both hands.  
'But Ginny Weasley is a Quidditch player and we all know that you prefer Quidditch players, don't you?'  
'I think you're confusing me with you,' Draco retorted but his insides swarmed like butterflies when Blaise gave him a smirk that said that he had won this little argument and he knew it.  
'And Weasleys are blood-traitors anyway,' Draco added just to keep Blaise's attention on him, who rolled his eyes.  
'Please, who hasn't some blood-traitor in their family? There are worse things.'  
'Like?' Theo had finally looked up from his book and Draco really wanted to hit him because Blaise's eyes shifted to Theo.  
'Having a Death Eater as a parent,' Blaise replied easily. Draco felt sick, like someone had hit him in the stomach. He looked out of the window again but he heard Theo's angry 'Fuck you.'  
Blaise shouldn't talk like this, not as a Slytherin, not as a friend when both Theo's and Draco's fathers were sitting in Azkaban. The nausea threatened to take over and Draco stumbled out of the compartment. Friends or not, he would never let anyone see him this weak. In the aisle he was tossed against someone by a violent motion of the train and a voice he knew only too well complained,'Watch it, Malfoy,' and tossed him back against the other wall.  
Ron Weasley, red hair, ratty clothes and even with his growth spurt this summer was still as tall as Draco. And for the first time since he came to Hogwarts, Draco did something very un-Malfoy-like, and instead of taking out his wand and cursing Weasley flat against the wall, Draco closed his fist and hit him in the face.  
It felt damn good and satisfying for the whole thee seconds that it took for a) his knuckles to begin to hurt and b) for Weasley to hit him back.  
Before Draco could get a second hit, something held them away from each other. The Granger girl had turned up and levitated them both a metre from each other.  
'Stop it! You are both prefects!'  
'He started it.' Weasley yelled.  
'You're sounding like a first-year girl,' Draco sneered. He had missed this. Giving Potter and his gang what they deserved, filthy scum that they were.  
'Come on, Hermione, let him curse me. I bet they have some nice little cell right next to his daddy's-'  
'Stop it!' Granger screamed. Her voice was so shrill that Draco felt the urge to cover his ears and if Weasley's flinching face was any indication, he did too.  
Suddenly the restraints were lifted and they both landed on their feet. Granger took Weasley's arm and dragged him with her. Draco could hear her saying:  
'Let it go, Ron. Malfoy's not worth it.'  
'This isn't over,' Draco yelled after both of them. He would make them pay for his father. Everyone of Potter's gang would pay for what they did.  
When he came back to the compartment, Blaise was gone. At Draco's questioning look, Pansy explained that he had gone to Slughorn's meeting.  
Pansy took out a romance novel and Draco played wizard chess with Theo, while Crabbe and Goyle snored in their respective corners.

Even when Potter turned up in the Great Hall after all, Draco still had the satisfaction to tell everyone at the Slytherin table how he broke Potter's nose for spying on them. The Talking Hat's speech hadn't been very encouraging, after all, the damn hat had nothing to lose. The thing with Slughorn still bugged him, too, and that he wasn't able to look away from Blaise for more than a few seconds despite Blaise's earlier comment.  
When the main course disappeared, Draco looked up to the teacher's table. The half-giant was still there but fortunately Draco had to endure the idiot's lessons no longer. To think that he had only taken that lesson in the first place because it gave him more time to torture Potter, well maybe he was a bit masochistic, but he had drawn the line at divinity.  
The first evening was usually a very loud occasion, and this year was no exception. Pansy didn't even pretend that she had any responsibility for the younger students and threw herself into the party.  
As long as no student ended up at the infirmary with alcohol poisoning, Snape turned a blind eye.   
An old Slytherin tradition was to show the new students their first spells to use on the other houses' students, but Draco felt strangely unattached to the scenery in front of him. It was like none of them cared that his father was in prison and his mother in danger from the Dark Lord nonetheless.  
Theo was nowhere to be found, but that was nothing unordinary, and Blaise had found a fifth year to flirt with, a very beautiful girl with black curls that reached down to her waist.  
Draco's stomach clenched at the sight and he decided that he needed some fresh air. He could hear Pansy call after him but he acted as if he hadn't heard her.  
The hallway on the other side of the gargoyle was dark but Draco didn't light his wand. In this absolute darkness he felt safer than anywhere else. He had always believed that obscurity equalled safety.   
'Mr. Malfoy.' Draco closed his eyes against the brightness of a wand. Unfortunately the voice that had sneered his name was not Snape's.  
'Lower your wand.' Draco snapped. It was probably not the best idea to aggravate an Auror but he was really not the mood for politeness, especially not for someone who had witnessed against his father.  
'What are you doing outside of your house at this hour?' The Auror sneered again. One could think that he held a personal grudge against Draco, who hadn't even dressed down a single student yet in this year.  
'That's none of your business,' replied Draco in a tone that mirrored the one the Auror had used.  
'You will see that it is.' The Auror grabbed Draco's shoulder. 'You'll come with me to Snape.'  
'Professor Snape.' Draco put emphasis on the first word. 'And let me go.'  
Snape's office never failed to fill Draco with a feeling of coming home. The glasses full of potion ingredients and the smell of various spices had a calming effect on him.  
When they entered, another door opened and Snape came in. He didn't even do so much as look at Draco before he asked,'what now, Savage?' The Auror gave Draco a light shove on Snape's direction.  
'Found him outside his dorm room.'  
'And?'  
'You're his Head of House, you decide how to punish him.' Draco absolutely hated it when people who were talking about him behaved like he wasn't standing right next to them.  
'If you escort him back to his dorm, then that is punishment enough.' Draco grinned when he practically could hear the Auror grind his teeth. Snape vanished without another word, not even a look to acknowledge Draco's presence.  
'If I ever catch you outside at this hour again, I won't bring you to Snape,' the Auror said as they were standing on the outer side of the gargoyle.  
'So what?' Draco asked back arrogantly and stepped through the hole behind the statue.  
'Hey, Draco, where have you been?' Pansy put her arms around his neck and giggled.  
'Nowhere.' He disentangled herself from her. 'I'm going to bed.'  
'But-' Her protest was swallowed by the noise around them as Draco walked away from her. He pointedly ignored Blaise and the fifth year, who were standing entangled in a corner next to the stairs that led to the boy's rooms.  
The room was deserted except for Theo, who lay on his bed, reading a book.  
'Hey.' Draco said.  
'Already tired?'  
'The third year of seeing Blaise mauling a pretty girl has become tiresome.' He threw his robe onto his bags. 'Night.'  
'Night.' Theo replied before Draco closed his drapes. But he couldn't sleep. At one point Crabbe and Goyle came in, audibly drunk and arguing about their summer flings but Draco tuned them out. He listened for Blaise's softer, nearly dance-like step and thought about his mother and why Snape hadn't looked at him earlier.  
Maybe Snape knew that Draco had heard him talking with his mother the other day and felt guilty now for listening to Narcissa's plea. Draco suddenly felt angry at his parents. He was sixteen, they couldn't just rule over his life anymore. If his not joining the Death Eaters put them in danger, then they should just let him do it. His father had always spoken about it as if it was an honour that he now denied Draco. They should be proud of him that the Dark Lord wanted him in his army at such an age and stop trying to protect him as if he was an infant.  
The door to the dorm opened and Draco could hear Blaise's voice, soft and flirtatious even if he couldn't make out the exact words. Draco rolled on his other side and covered his ears with his pillow.  
He didn't fall asleep for a very long time.

The next morning was worse. The house elves had made porridge for breakfast, which Draco hated almost as much as he hated Potter, then Potter and Weasley suddenly turned up in Potions, the only class Draco had had without them, and on top of that, Potter unearthed some previously unknown talent for potion making.   
In Herbology, a plant bit him; and at lunch, Blaise sat with this new girl-toy, Theo was nowhere to be seen again, and Pansy giggled over something with Daphne and Astoria.  
Snape continued to ignore him in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Blaise got another invitation from Slughorn, who did his best to ignore that both Draco and Theo had good connections to important people just because their fathers were Death Eaters.  
The only good thing that happened was his promotion to captain of the Slytherin team.

Saturday hadn't been able to come too fast. The whole week had been like the first day, and even Pansy seemed disappointed with him because he wasn't attached to the hip with her like Blaise was with his girl.  
It had been a pretty lonely week for Draco. Sure, he still had Crabbe and Goyle, but they weren't as entertaining as Blaise with his sharp wit. Only now that Blaise actually spent time with his conquest, Draco noticed how much time he and Blaise had used to spend together. Blaise was the only one who didn't accept Draco's status as First Slytherin without a challenge and he was the only one who never backed down from Draco, had never looked up to him. Blaise was the only one of Draco's friends who treated him as though they were equal and Draco missed that because it had made things more interesting.  
Also, every time he saw Blaise with his girlfriend, he either felt like ripping her apart or like vomiting. It was also the reason why he had left the castle for the Quidditch field very early.  
'Hey.' A boy approached him. He was just as tall as Draco with dark eyes and honey-coloured hair. In other words he was very attractive but definitely not from Slytherin.  
'And you are?' Draco asked in a bored voice but he was curious what the hell the other boy was doing here.  
'I'm Cormac McLaggen.' The boy extended his hand: 'Future Keeper of the Gryffindor team.'  
'Then you're wrong here.'  
'I was –'  
'Back off, McLaggen.' Blaise came onto the field, surprisingly girlfriend-free.  
'I'll see you.' He winked at Draco, before he left.  
'What did he want?' Blaise sneered at Cormac's back.  
'Don't know. You know him?' Draco asked while showing nothing more than casual interest.  
'From Slughorn's club.' Blaise still made a face as if Cormac was worse than Potter: . 'He's a show-off and Slughorn practically kisses his ass because his uncle has some high position in the Ministry and knows the Minister.'  
'Doesn't sound so bad for a Gryffindor.' Draco successfully hid his grin at Blaise's angry and disbelieving snort. He enjoyed riling up Blaise at every opportunity.   
'He's also rather attractive for one. Like that Weasley girl.' His father would kill him for this sentence alone, but the look of utter apallment on Blaise's face was so worth it.  
'Whatever.'  
With Pucey gone there was no question that Vaisey would finally make it into the team as second chaser and Blaise became the third. Blaise, like Theo, could have become a Chaser way earlier but Theo simply wasn't interested and Blaise had had his problems with Pucey.  
Hestia Jones, a fourth year who looked as thin as a twig, could pull her weight surprisingly well as a keeper and the twins Pan and Fauna Carrow became the new beaters.  
Warrington was pissed that he hadn't become captain but he was still a Chaser so he couldn't complain.  
Draco had enjoyed being back in the air and had pulled some ridiculously dangerous stunts because Cormac had followed him with his eyes and whistled every time Draco neatly avoided breaking his neck. Not to mention that that had really bothered Blaise. Draco still hadn't forgiven him for the comment he had made in the Hogwarts Express and if getting the attention of a Gryffindor was all it took to get retribution on Blaise, then Draco saw no problem.  
On Sunday morning, Snape finished ignoring Draco when he came to the Slytherin table even before the owls had come.  
'Mr. Malfoy, please follow me.'  
'Can't it wait?' Draco asked annoyed. He was really hungry and not in a generous mood to forgive that Snape had ignored him for the past week.  
'No.'  
'I haven't even eaten yet,' Draco protested.  
'Now, Mr. Malfoy.' Snape's voice left no room for protest. Draco made a face as he got up and followed Snape out of the Great Hall. They went the whole way down to Snape's office.  
'Please sit, Draco.' Draco threw himself in one of Snape's armchairs that were a lot more comfortable than they looked.  
'What is it?' He was fast running out of patience.  
'Your mother was reported missing last night,' Snape said calmly. Draco shot up.  
'No. No, this has to be a mistake.'  
'Unfortunately it's not.'  
Rage dwelled up in him. How could Snape be so calm? He was not talking about a stranger. He was talking about the woman he had-  
'It's your fault,' Draco accused him, standing up. He was nearly as tall as Snape.  
'You promised her that you wouldn't bring me to the Dark Lord. You put her in danger.' His voice was high and close to breaking but he really didn't care.  
'Maybe you even sent them there. Way to elevate your rank, betraying your friends.'  
'I have done no such thing. Your parents knew the risks, and if you really listened to me and your mother talking then you know that.'  
'Then where is she? What do they want with her?' Draco screamed.  
'I don't know.'  
'Liar! That's what you are a dirty, spineless liar.' Draco dragged the back of his hand harshly over his eyes. He would not cry. Not in front of Snape, not in front of anyone. Malfoys didn't cry.  
'You would let her die-' The tears didn't want to stop coming, no matter how much he wanted them to. 'You would let me die, too, wouldn't you? And my father.' He wanted to hurt Snape, hurt him for standing there calmly and judging Draco's weakness.  
'An owl has been sent to Azkaban. If you want, I'm sure we could arrange a visit for you, due to the extraordinary circumstances.' Then Snape did something he hadn't done for years: He drew Draco in an embrace that Draco fought half-heartedly for a few moments but succumbed to in the end. Snape smelled like his office; after varying spices from sharp pepper to sweet, dried oranges.  
He didn't say anything, just held Draco until the sobs subsided, then he let him go.  
'Wash your face before you go back to the Great Hall,' Snape advised him. The familiarity was soothing. Shape up boy and be a Slytherin.  
'I'll talk with the Headmaster about a visit to Azkaban.'

A few minutes later, Draco looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was presentable again, his hair in order and his face not red and puffy anymore.  
He must have missed something, though, because whispers started as soon as he came back, mostly because the owls had come and his mother's vanishing was the headline, but Blaise's girlfriend of all people whispered to her friend.  
'He looks like he cried, doesn't he?' And giggled.  
It only took seconds: he grabbed a fistful of her thick, black hair and dragged her backwards from her seat onto the floor and hit her with his fist. And again. And again. He was on his knees over her and hit her again and again.  
He wasn't fully aware of what he was doing until someone grabbed his arms from behind and dragged him away from her.  
Of course, Blaise chose that moment to saunter in and all he saw was Draco who had to be dragged away from attacking his girlfriend.  
Draco felt very much like crying again and possibly begging Blaise to listen to him first before he judged the scene.  
'Mr. Malfoy.' McGonagall's serious voice cut through the noise of all Hogwarts students whispering fiercely.  
'Please Hagrid, would you be so kind to bring Mr. Malfoy outside. I'll accompany Miss Jayne to the infirmary.'  
'Let me go, you monster.' Draco freed himself from Hagrid's grip but he followed him outside, pointedly ignoring all the whispering around him. Blaise stood still in the entrance to the Great Hall but Draco avoided his eyes and held his head high.  
Outside they met Snape who just came upstairs.  
'Mr. Malfoy, I was under the impression that you wanted to go to breakfast.'  
'He attacked a girl.' Hagrid said. Snape raised his eyebrow only a millimetre.  
'You had better go back, Mr. Malfoy. I don't tolerate lateness.'  
'But Dumbledore-' Hagrid protested but Snape cut right over him.  
'I am Mr. Malfoy's Head of House and I say that he can go back to breakfast.'


	2. Chapter 2

No one mentioned the incident anymore, at least not in Draco’s vicinity. Only Blaise’s girlfriend looked a bit wary when Draco was around, which wasn’t that often since Blaise barely talked with Draco anymore. If they hadn’t Quidditch training or Potions, Draco could have as well been air to Blaise.  
Between Quidditch and homework Draco had still enough time to think, which was exactly what he didn’t want to do. He couldn’t even write to his father since prisoners weren’t allowed to get letters and his wife’s being missing also didn’t mean that Draco could visit him.  
Luckily, the first and most important Quidditch match came nearer and nearer and Draco scheduled so much trainings lessons that one or two team members complained about not having enough time for their homework until Draco reminded them scathingly that Gryffindor had won the damn Quidditch cup the last two times.  
Still, he had too much time on his hands and even his homework could only fill so much of his time. A positive side effect was that his grade in every subject improved, except Potions. Whatever Potter did was perfect and no one could reach his level. It bugged Draco more than he cared to admit.  
Half a dozen unsent letters to his father later the weekend of the first Quidditch match was there and of course everything went wrong. Vaisey hit his head and couldn’t play, which meant that Draco had to find a new chaser in less than 24 hours. Or he would have, but the winter flu swept through Slytherin and even with Madam Pomfrey’s potion, he and the whole team were out for the whole day until the next morning.  
At breakfast he told Theo in no uncertain terms that he would play this match with them or he could explain to all teachers why his homework ended up in fireplaces regularly.  
‘Okay, okay.’ Theo held up his hands in surrender.  
‘Just making sure.’ Draco said with a smile that showed all his teeth. Theo rolled his eyes.  
‘You’re really obsessed with this game.’  
‘When you’re captain, then we’ll talk.’  
‘Will that be after or before you trained your team to death?’ But before Draco could answer, Theo added,‘hey, there’s your Gryffindor friend.’  
And really, Cormac McLaggen approached the Slytherin table and Draco in particular. From what he had seen of him, Potter hated having him as Keeper and that alone endeared him to Draco, plus even though he didn’t talked to him it was clear that Blaise’s opinion of Cormac hadn’t improved.  
‘Hi.’ Cormac practically leered at him. From the corner of his eye, Draco could see how Blaise’s face darkened and leered back.  
‘Hi. Your first match. Nervous?’  
‘Petrified.’ Cormac grinned. ‘But you don’t have to play against me directly.’  
‘You underestimate my team.’ Draco threw him a wolfish grin.  
‘I think you underestimate me.’ Cormac dropped his voice an octave or so.  
‘We’ll see.’ He offered Cormac his hand and Cormac took it, looking him in the eyes the whole time. He had brown eyes like Blaise but in a lighter shade.  
‘Maybe we could discuss the game afterwards.’  
‘I don’t think I can afford being late to the party in my house afterwards.’  
Cormac shrugged.  
‘Maybe later.’  
‘Maybe.’  
Draco looked at his team.  
‘Let’s go.’

Outside, Blaise suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged Draco in an alcove, while gesturing to the other’s to go.  
‘What was that?’ He nearly yelled at Draco. After not speaking to him for two months, flirting with McLaggen got him Blaise’s attention? Merlin, was his friend easy. Draco shrugged.  
‘I was merely talking with a fellow student.’  
‘Talking? That was a lot of things but definitely not talking.’  
‘Jealous?’ Draco smirked at him. It was a shame that they had to go to the game soon, because he liked having Blaise’s attention on him again.  
‘Because last time I looked you had a girlfriend.’ Draco straightened his robes. ‘Relax, Blaise. McLaggen is a pureblood, so nothing to worry about.’  
‘He’s still a Gryffindor. Your expectations have really dropped, Draco.’  
‘I see it as widening my horizon.’ He pretended that the last sentence hadn’t hurt because McLaggen was at least in Slughorn’s club if nothing else but who was Marisa Jayne?!  
‘Or losing your mind.’  
Draco narrowed his eyes.   
‘What do you mean with that?’  
‘I mean that you’re completely mad since you came this summer. Couldn’t cope without your father, could you?’  
‘You would of course know everything about that.’ Draco sneered.  
‘And as soon as your mother vanished you attacked Marisa.’ Blaise continued as if Draco hadn’t said anything. That was too much. Draco seized his wand and pressed it against Blaise’s throat.  
‘You better watch your mouth you filthy half-blood.’  
‘Or what?’ Blaise whispered boldly, ‘Kill me? I don’t think so. You don’t have the power anymore to usher us around.’  
‘Yeah?’ Draco’s voice was soft but filled with venom. ‘My mother is vanished, my father imprisoned, you know how soft Dumbledore is: I could attack your girlfriend without getting detention. Do you really want to risk it?’  
‘Draco! Blaise!’ Hestia stood a few metres away. ‘Where were you?’  
Draco put his wand away and they both followed Hestia to the changing rooms.

‘Fine, so the Gryffindor Keeper doesn’t get along with his team, so Potter will probably pay less attention to him. You,’ he addressed Pan and Fauna. ‘Keep the Weasley girl from the Quaffle as well as you can, Bell, too but mostly Weasley.’  
‘And you can try to catch the Snitch at least once before Potter.’ Blaise murmured so that everyone could hear it. Since hitting Blaise in front of the whole team before their match would be bad for morale, Draco grinned an all-teeth grin and said:  
‘If you’re good enough, it won’t matter whether I catch the snitch or not.’ Blaise looked like he had a lot of answers for that but Draco prevented that by saying, ‘Let’s go.’  
McLaggen had the nerve to smirk at him when Draco shook hands with Potter. Draco successfully avoided giving Potter a pitying slap on the shoulder. His team couldn’t lose.  
Madam Hooch’s whistle gave the start signal and both teams rose into the air.  
Just like Potter, Draco had to divide his attention between finding the snitch and looking at what his team was doing. McLaggen was a better Keeper than Draco had anticipated but he kept distracting his team and Potter by telling them constantly how to do things right, which more or less meant that Bell and Weasley played alone against the Slytherins.  
Pan and Fauna kept flying around Weasley as he had told them, even if that meant that his team had to duck the Bludgers a bit more than what was usual. Theo was not bad for never having Quidditch training, but Blaise’s ferocity together with Urquhart’s experience nearly made up for the loss of Vaisey, who already had a place in a professional team waiting for him.  
‘Trouble with your Keeper, Potter?’ Draco had immensely enjoyed the last minute where Potter had yelled at McLaggen until his face was red.  
‘Your Beaters seemed to have forgotten their job.’ Potter pointed out, but Draco ignored that. He would boast with his brilliant tactics later, after they had won.  
As if on keyword Potter suddenly flew steep into the sky. Draco didn’t need to be told that he had seen the snitch and followed him. The sun was shining and in the golden-glittering water from the lake it was hard to make out the small ball Potter chased.   
With his faster broom, Potter would have caught the snitch, if the little ball hadn’t unexpectedly decided to change its direction.  
And then, with Blaise’s words still fresh in his mind, Draco did something very, very foolish. He jumped from his broom, caught the snitch with his outstretched hand and held on with an iron grip. He could hear Potter’s gasp and thought gloatingly didn’t expect that, didn’t you Potter?   
He would bet that they all thought that he was going to fall but his father had taught him never be without your wand   
‘Accio, Nimbus 2001.’ He gripped the broom with his free hand and showed the snitch to the audience. The noise from the Slytherin side was deafening. Draco twisted his head until he could see Potter’s disbelieving face and laughed. They had won. They had won their first fucking match against Gryffindor in six years.  
When he landed on the ground, his knees gave out, but for once he couldn’t care less. His team surrounded him and they all hugged each other, while the Gryffindor team stood around, looking clueless what to do.  
‘You stupid idiot.’ Pansy had come down and hugged him too. ‘You scared us all to death with your stunt.’  
‘A world-class seeker and captain has to always do something unexpected to win.’ Draco replied arrogantly, which wasn’t so convincing since he couldn’t stop grinning.  
They just beat Gryffindor, the other matches would be easy. It was as if they already held the Quidditch cup in their hands. When they did, he would so send Flint a picture of it.   
‘She’s right, Draco.’ Theo shook his head. ‘That was pretty reckless even for your standards.’  
‘Stop spoiling the mood, Nott,’ Vaisey admonished him, a bandage firmly wrapped around his head. For the first time he didn’t look like he begrudged Draco becoming captain instead of him. ‘You fooled us all.’  
‘It was a pleasure.’ Draco smirked self-satisfied. Mother and father will be so proud abruptly he seemed to be unable to breathe properly. For a few minutes he had actually forgotten...and now Blaise was approaching him and he absolutely didn’t want to deal with that now, too. The pain in his chest was already enough.  
‘Hey,’ Blaise said, but Draco looked away. In the crowd surrounding them he could make out the thick, black hair of Blaise’s girlfriend.  
‘You confirmed what I always thought about you,’ Blaise tried again.  
‘What? That I’m an arrogant madman who got where he is because of his father? And shows his madness now that said father is gone?’ Draco asked quietly but icily.  
No matter how attractive Blaise is, if thinks he can make up for what he said without saying sorry then-  
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ Blaise admitted, ‘I went too far.’ Blaise took a deep breath.  
‘I’m sorry, Draco.’  
‘It’s okay.’ Draco said and added, mostly because Blaise smiled at him.  
‘I went too far, too.’  
‘You two are finally talking to each other again?’ Theo snorted derisively.  
‘Fuck you, Nott,’ Draco replied cheerily, because Blaise ignored his girlfriend completely to go with the rest of the team to the lockers.  
Short of his mother coming back unharmed, his father coming back from prison and Potter humiliating himself so badly that they would expel him from school, life couldn’t be better.  
Blaise realizing that his girlfriend was crap and not worth his time wouldn’t hurt either.  
Partly to rub it into Potter’s face, partly to rile Blaise up, Draco continued flirting with Cormac, especially when Blaise chose his girlfriend’s company over Draco’s. It never went farer than a little harmless flirtation.  
Just because they had won against Gryffindor didn’t mean that Draco cut his team any slack. He had in fact, with Snape’s permission who had given him an angry glare and additional homework for talking in class to Potter’s delight, for the stunt at the match, begun to train a substitute team.  
December came quickly and everyone’s favourite topic was whether they would go home for the vacations and what they would do there. The bad weather combined with this year’s security measures meant that Draco had no place to escape to. That damn Auror had delivered him to Snape’s office three more times for no other reason than being late from Quidditch training. So what, it wasn’t like Draco was checking his watch every three minutes when he was flying. Also, it was only ever him, the Auror never harassed the other team members that came as late as Draco.

‘Hey, Draco.’  
Draco made a non-committed sound. He was elbows deep in his homework because the teachers seemed to be under the impression that vacations in two weeks meant that they could double the work for their students. Maybe training two Quidditch teams had really been a bit too much.  
‘Draco.’  
‘Draco!’ Blaise repeated impatiently.  
‘What?’ Draco snapped. He didn’t need to do this particular essay now but not working meant time to remember that he would spent Christmas alone in an empty house without his parents.’  
‘Do you want to come with me during the vacations?’  
Draco must have misheard because he had been sure that only a week ago Blaise had told him that he would spent his vacations with this girlfriend and her family. Draco said so.  
Blaise shrugged.  
‘We broke up.’ As if that wasn’t a bad deal and Draco, annoyingly, felt very much like dancing on the ceiling.  
‘Mother won’t be home anyway, so it’s just me and Faiella.’  
‘Faiella?’ Draco asked suspiciously.  
‘My sister. She attends Beauxbatons.’ He laughed at Draco’s stunned face.  
‘You have never said anything about a sister.’  
‘She’s going to Beauxbatons, none of you would have ever let me hear the end of that.’ Blaise’s expectant smile did something very treacherous to Draco’s insides and his knees became weak.  
‘So, you’re coming or not?’  
‘Sure,’ Draco replied, pretending to be annoyed for being interrupted for something so trivial.  
‘Can I finish my homework now?’

His good mood lasted exactly a week until he heard that Blaise had invited Marisa Jayne to Slughorn’s Christmas party.  
Spending two weeks’ vacation with Blaise or not, Draco couldn’t let that one sit. They had broken up, hadn’t they? Then why the hell did Blaise invite her? He could have as well asked Draco –and that was probably the heart of the matter, but Draco refused to look too closely at that possibility and did what he always did this year when he wanted to annoy Blaise: spend time with Cormac McLaggen. After the disastrous Quidditch match against Slytherin, Potter had thrown McLaggen out of the team but he was still in Slughorn’s club.  
Getting invited was nearly too easy and got Draco (and McLaggen probably too) a lot of looks that clearly asked if he had lost his mind. Blaise looked his especially furious but didn’t say anything.  
On the evening of the party, Draco was in a nearly euphoric mood. Only this night separated him from two weeks with Blaise and no girlfriend in sight.  
Cormac actually looked good. Not as good as Blaise, but then Blaise was a class by himself, but Cormac was dressed tastefully even by Draco’s standards, and was attractive to begin with.  
Cormac eyed him from top to toe when they met in the hallway on the seventh floor, not far from the room were Slughorn held his party. Blaise had already gone half an hour before, and had only dryly reminded Draco that he shouldn’t come back too late or he would miss the Hogwarts Express. Draco had rolled his eyes at that. What exactly thought Blaise he would do with Cormac? Being a good looking distraction didn’t automatically mean getting laid.  
‘Ah, Mr. McLaggen.’ Slughorn greeted Draco’s companion enthusiastically but only as long until he saw Draco.  
‘And Mr. - He seemed too perplexed to remember Draco’s name.  
‘Malfoy, sir.’ Draco said politely, ‘I believe you knew my grandfather, Abraxus Malfoy. He always said that you were his favourite teacher.’  
‘Of course, of course.’ Slughorn still stared at them. ‘But please, enjoy the party. Even Mr. Potter has come.’  
Even with Potter, Granger and Blaise’s girlfriend at the party, Draco still had the time of his life. He had grown up around parties like this and his parents had trained him to be polite, charming and generally obliging to the right people.   
He talked and laughed, made compliments and listened carefully to everything the other guests said. He was especially polite and charming to those who he could see were wary of him because of his name, and managed to outmanoeuvre Potter and Granger while throwing an insult about her family into a compliment he made the Weasley girl. Her glare amused him even more than Blaise’s appalled looks at Cormac.  
‘He’s jealous, you know?’ The blonde Ravenclaw girl with the crazy clothes had somehow wound up next to him while Cormac was using the bathroom. Against his will Draco asked,  
‘Jealous?’  
‘You mean a lot to him.’  
Draco smirked. Cormac was in for an unpleasant surprise if he thought that anything would ever happen between them.  
‘Hey Luna, is he bothering you?’ Potter glared at him. Draco sneered back.  
‘Relax, Potter, I wouldn’t touch your girlfriend with a ten-metre pole if I had to.’  
‘Let us go somewhere else,’ Potter muttered darkly.  
‘Bye, Draco.’ Luna waved at him as she followed Potter to the other side f the room.  
‘Don’t worry, she’s a bit crazy.’ Cormac had reappeared at Draco’s side.  
‘She’s in best company for that.’  
‘Potter is an asshole,’ Cormac agreed. Because he threw off of the team, right? Draco smiled secretly. Cormac’s hand brushed against his.  
‘Hey, ‘He said quietly, ‘You want to get some fresh air?’  
Draco fully intended to say no but in that moment Blaise leaned down to whisper something into his ex-girlfriend’s ear and she laughed. To reach the balcony behind the shades, they had to walk past them. In a sudden fit of nausea and anger Draco said,‘Sure.’ He made a point of walking as closely as possible to Cormac and met Slughorn’s confused and Blaise’s disbelieving looks with a defiant stare. For a short moment Blaise made a move like he wanted to approach Draco, stop him from going with McLaggen but his ex-girlfriend’s hand laid on his arm made him hesitate.  
The air was icy. Snow fell from the sky and covered the whole world as far as he could see.  
‘You like playing hard to get, don’t you?’ Cormac was far too much in Draco’s personal space but Draco could feel Blaise’s eyes on him through the translucent drapes. Maybe he was taking this too far, but then he remembered how Marisa had stopped Blaise from stopping Draco even though she didn’t have a claim on Blaise anymore.  
If Blaise wanted to watch what he could have had if he had only said something, then who was Draco to deny him that pleasure.  
‘I’m worth it.’ He grinned at Cormac.  
‘Really?’ Cormac’s voice had dropped and he leaned close, ‘Show me.’  
Draco kissed him.  
It felt a bit mechanical, kissing someone he only felt remotely attracted to while he knew that someone else watched them but on the other hand, the last time he had had sex had been before the summer vacations and his body definitely favoured Cormac over abstinence.  
It was too cold to do anything but kissing, but Cormac was a good kisser and they wound up pressed tightly against each other.  
Draco asked himself how it would feel if it was Blaise he was kissing, Blaise who was taller and more slender than Cormac, who had elegant hands with finely boned fingers and smelled subtly like expensive cologne.  
A commotion on the other side of the drapes made them part, someone was calling Draco’s name.  
Draco stepped through the drapes back inside the room and saw Snape. Saw the serious look on Snape’s face and felt his insides clench and turn to ice.  
Please no.  
‘Mr. Malfoy.’ He needed no further words.  
‘Draco, what-?’ Cormac had followed him.  
‘Not now,’ Draco snapped at him and rushed out of the room.  
‘You found her.’ Draco wasn’t sure whether his sentence had come out as a statement or as a question but it didn’t matter.  
‘Where?’  
‘Rosier’s house. The Aurors made a routine search and found your mother’s body in the cellar. She was killed months ago.’ Snape sounded angry as if he knew something that Draco didn’t knew, as he knew who was to blame for the death of Draco’s mother.  
I bet you do. Draco thought. You just have to look into the mirror.  
‘How did she die?’ Draco dreaded the answer but he had to know, ‘Was it the Avada?’  
Snape eyed him for a moment, apparently unsure of how much he should tell Draco.  
‘No, it wasn’t. It was Exsanguere.’ Draco wished that he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to see in his mind how his mother lay somewhere on the floor and slowly bled to death. He could see his aunt Bellatrix, dancing around his mother and throwing insults at her, probably a few other curses, too, to see her suffer. Draco had to stop and lean against a wall for a moment. He involuntarily shook his head to get rid of the gruesome images that raced through it.  
‘Where are we going?’ He asked to occupy his thoughts with something else than imagining his mother’s death.  
‘To the Headmaster’s office. Due the ‘special’ circumstances you are now allowed to visit your father at Azkaban.’  
‘Now?’ Slipped out before he could stop it.  
Snape raised his eyebrows.  
‘Would you rather wait until after you said goodbye to Mr. McLaggen?’ Snape’s sarcasm hurt but it anchored Draco in the here and now.  
‘That’s none of your business,’ He snapped and watched Snape’s lips curl into a thin line. Why the hell did everyone think that McLaggen was the love of his life? Draco huffed and banned all thoughts about McLaggen, the party and Blaise from his mind.

‘Mr. Malfoy,’ Dumbledore greeted him with a serious voice. ‘Professor Snape has already explained the situation to you?’  
‘Yes.’ Draco felt impatient. He saw no sense in being here when he should already be on his way to Azkaban. He could do without Dumbledore’s condolences.  
‘Very well then. Two Aurors will wait for you at the gate and escort you and Professor Snape to Azkaban.’ Dumbledore paused. ‘I understand that you wanted to spend your holidays with Mr. Zabini?’  
Draco wondered how Dumbledore could know that but he affirmed.  
‘If you agree, you can meet him tomorrow at King’s Cross as I doubt that you will be able to return to the school tonight.’  
‘Thank you, sir.’ No one could say that his parents hadn’t raised him to counter every situation with manners.  
‘Why the Aurors?’ he asked Snape as soon as they were outside.  
‘Dumbledore is afraid that someone might attack you on the way to your father.’  
‘They have their revenge on my father,’ Draco laughed humourlessly, mirroring his mother’s words from this summer: ‘What should the Dark Lord want from a child like me?’  
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Snape reprimanded him, ‘The Dark Lord doesn’t tolerate refusal from his inferiors. He won't stop until you and Lucius are in his hands too.’  
‘Then why didn’t you let me go?’ Draco felt the old, familiar anger stir up again,  
‘You didn’t have to promise my mother to protect me. I’m old enough to make my own choices.’  
‘That alone proves how foolishly childish you still are.’ Snape didn’t need to raise his voice to make Draco hear that he was rapidly losing his patience.  
‘Lucius failed the Dark Lord and either way you are the easiest way to make him pay for that failure. Make no mistake, Draco. Your death was planned and instead of looking for someone to blame, you should honour the sacrifice your mother made to protect you.’  
Draco pressed his lips together and bit so hard that he could taste blood, but he didn’t want to show Snape how much he had hurt him. Someone was to blame for his mother’s death, and placing it on his father was unacceptable. He was his father. The only family he had left. Snape, no matter how much Draco had always admired him, was not family.  
One of the two Aurors that waited for then was, of course, the Auror that had picked on Draco for the whole semester. He looked grimly satisfied, like he thought that Draco finally got what he deserved. Draco had to preserve all his strength not to attack him, and vowed silently that he would use the first opportunity to hex the man some furuncles.   
The other Auror was, as Draco knew, his cousin Nymphadora, but that was only a technicality since his mother had never had contact with her sister since she had betrayed the family to marry a Muggle.  
Snape took Draco’s arm as soon as they had reached the middle of Hogsmeade, a swirl and the next thing Draco did was fall to his knees and vomit into the sand underneath him.  
If Apparating was always like that, then he would rather walk than do it again.  
‘Get up boy, we don’t have all night.’ The Auror had the nerve to sound annoyed.  
‘Milton,’ Nymphadora said softly. She gave Draco a sympathetic look.  
Don’t you dare pity me you didn’t even know my mother   
‘You better watch your mouth, Savage,’ Snape said coolly.  
‘Why? You gonna hex me?’  
‘I’m sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t like to hear that you treat one of his students as if he has committed a crime, for nothing else but holding a petty grudge against his father,’ Snape continued as if the Auror hadn’t said anything. ‘He may come to think that you are not the right person to guard a school and request to put you back to active duty, far away from Hogwarts.’  
It was clear what Snape implied, and the Auror only narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Draco shivered involuntarily as he followed Snape through the hallways of Azkaban. After the breakout last year, the Ministry employed fewer Dementors, but some were still here. And this prison belonged to the supposedly good guys. Driving one’s prisoners to insanity was inhuman and deliberately cruel; some of the prisoners where in Azkaban because they had done exactly that.   
An eye for an eye. Maybe we should reinstate the death penalty for murderers and let rapists be raped themselves Draco thought darkly in an attempt to push away the images of his mother’s death. His father had taught him that.  
Think dark thoughts when you encounter them, Draco. The Dementors can’t feed on them.  
They were brought into a special room; his father already sat at the other side of the old wooden table and looked exhausted and thin, like he hadn’t been eating enough.  
‘We’ll give you a moment.’ Only then Draco noticed that Snape and the two Aurors hadn’t followed him inside. Even through the closed door Draco could hear loud protest at Snape’s action.  
He didn’t care.  
His father had barely stood up when Draco crossed the room and rushed into his arms. It had been a long time since his father had held him like that but in this situation, a token of weakness seemed justified.  
His father didn’t say anything, no platitudes like Dumbledore, simply held him with one arm securely around Draco’s body while the other hand stroked his hair.  
There were a lot of thoughts running through Draco’s head and all of them were incredibly trivial.  
We have a new Potions teacher I’m worse than Potter now, too, because he’s cheating. I’m sure he does Snape’s teaching in DADA like he always wanted. I’m Slytherin’s Quidditch captain. We beat Gryffindor this year. I slept with Theo last year after they arrested you. I kissed a Gryffindor just a few hours ago. I think I like Blaise  
They could hear the rusty handle on the door moving and parted, each sitting down on either side of the table.  
The Auror came in, looking flushed as if he had had a heated argument with Snape, who threw him a disgusted look.  
‘Severus.’ His father acknowledged his old friend with a nod.  
‘Lucius.’ Then he turned to Nymphadora and pointedly ignored the other Auror:  
‘When will you release my wife’s remains for the burial?’  
‘Not until the new year.’ Was he imagining that or did she actually sound sorry?: ‘The examination isn’t finished yet.’  
‘I don’t suppose you will let me go to the funeral.’ His father sounded rather amused at the very idea and the Auror immediately chimed in:  
‘The risk of your flight is too high.’ His father murmured something derogatory, and since neither Auror could actually see his face, rolled his eyes.  
‘You will spend Christmas at Hogwarts, then.’  
‘Actually, Blaise invited me to spend the holidays with him.’  
‘Good.’ His father nodded approvingly. His eyes lingered at Draco’s suit.  
‘You were at a party tonight?’  
‘Professor Slughorn gave one,’ Draco told him, ‘He’s our new Potions teacher.’  
His father gave Snape an appraising look. It had always wormed Draco that they could talk to each other without actually saying a word, mostly because he didn’t have a friend like that. The closest friend he had was Theo, and even they weren’t as close as Snape and his father.  
Then his father continued to ask a few more questions about school and Quidditch and Draco could gloat with his daring move to catch the snitch before Potter. It was vaguely surreal to have such a domestic conversation with his father in the night, surrounded by two Aurors and his head of house. They didn’t mention Narcissa until the end, where his father said:   
‘When you come back from Zabini’s, contact Keyx, he will know what to do.’  
Keyx was the family lawyer and even now loyal since the Malfoys were only fallen from grace, but not poor. He also handled most of the business since Draco’s mother had been taken hostage.  
‘I know.’


	3. Chapter 3

Draco stood outside King’s Cross, waiting for Blaise. Snape had left him here, going back to whatever he did for Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. He had kept him company until the train arrived, but Draco hadn’t wanted to wait inside King’s Cross. The last thing he wanted was to be stared at by the other students.  
Snape would tell Blaise where to find him and it would preserve some of Draco’s dignity. He knew he looked terrible with the dark bags under his eyes, unwashed and with his disarrayed hair.  
Blaise crossed the street, with a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked graceful even when he wore so many clothes that a normal person should barely be able to move. Blaise hated cold weather with the same fervour that Draco hated Potter.  
‘You’re ready to go?’ Blaise asked simply. As if nothing extraordinary had happened in the last 12 hours.  
‘Yes.’ Draco barely moved. He was so cold he felt like he was frozen to the spot, his stuff lay still in their dorm room in Hogwarts.  
‘Where do you live?’  
‘Not here.’  
‘You don’t say.’ Draco rolled his eyes but his voice was more acidly than sarcastic and Blaise had noticed that since he held his hands up.  
‘There’s a Portkey waiting for us in the Leaky Cauldron. Faiella should already be home. Maybe we’ll get a warm lunch.’ Blaise shrugged: ‘If she felt like it.’  
‘You don’t have House Elves for that?’  
‘Not in our winter home.’ Blaise snorted: ‘My sister, she’s a bit strange.’  
Draco didn’t ask. ‘Strange’ could mean anything by Blaise from a hair cut he didn’t like to mental illness. Draco would meet her soon enough.  
He was curious, since he had never imagined that Blaise could have a sister. Blaise acted like Draco, like he was an only child not like he had a twin sister.

‘Blaise!’ The door sprang open and a bright blue blur jumped Blaise.  
‘Fai.’ Blaise protested but didn’t try to dislodge the girl around his neck. On the other hand she let go of him as soon as she spotted Draco. She couldn’t have been more different from Blaise if she had tried. Blaise dressed in dark, classical clothes and moved with a reserved and slightly arrogant air around him. Faiella wore clothes in bright colours that looked like she had worn them for years and her face was open and enthusiastic.  
‘You have to be Draco.’ The words seemed to bubble from her lips with a charming French accent: ‘Blaise told me so much about you, I’m so happy that we finally meet.’ She took his hand and drew him into a short embrace:  
‘I’m Faiella, but I bet Blaise told you that already.’  
It seemed a bit unnecessary to tell her that he was Draco, so he asked:  
‘Blaise talks about me?’  
‘Nonstop.’ She confirmed: ‘whenever he’s home it’s always ‘Draco did that-‘or ‘Draco said,’ or ‘Draco has’.’  
‘Fai,’ Blaise interrupted her.  
’What?’ Faiella protested: ‘It’s true. But I bet he never talks about me, am I right?’  
‘Yes, I didn’t know about you until this winter.’  
‘That’s so typical.’ Faiella rolled her eyes in the same minimalistic way that Blaise did too. And like her brother she used her hands a lot during a conversation.  
‘Oh, by the way, Mum send an owl that she is going skiing with number seventeen and won’t be home for Christmas.’  
‘Number seventeen?’ Draco asked.  
‘It never pays to remember the names of Mum’s boyfriends, so we number them.’ Faiella waved her hands dismissively.  
‘Do you want coffee?’  
‘Sure?’ After the sheer disaster that happened in the last 12 hours, Blaise’s sister was a bit overwhelming.  
‘Blaise, can you make some? I’ll show Draco where he sleeps.’ Blaise’s protest was muffled when Faiella dragged Draco inside.  
The house wasn’t big but it was not small either and with the modern interior design and the big windows in every direction it conveyed a feeling of openness.  
‘I’m so glad you came and not Blaise’s girlfriend,’ Faiella confided as soon as they were upstairs and Blaise in the kitchen.  
‘Ex-girlfriend,’ Draco corrected even though he didn’t know if it still held true after last night, ‘I didn’t know that you know her.’  
‘Blaise and I met her this summer, and I’m still convinced that Blaise only started seeing her because I couldn’t stand her. I dreaded that she would come with him for Christmas when he continued seeing what’s-her-name after the summer.’  
She opened a door and revealed a room that was small compared to the vast expanse of the main room but had a nice atmosphere. Two beds stood in it.  
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Faiella said: ‘But we don’t have a guest room. The door with the Sisters poster leads to the bathroom.’  
‘Blaise told me that you go to Beauxbatons.’  
‘It’s beautiful. Too bad they don’t want to hold another TrimagicTournament in Beauxbatons this time. It’s like a princess dream castle. You should see it. It’s marvelous.’  
‘They called off Quidditch for that,’ Draco replied deprecatingly.  
‘Blaise wrote me that you play for Hogwarts’ team. And then he gloated for three metres that you won some match this year, mostly because of his own awesomeness, as he put it, and something that he called ‘Draco’s suicidal stunt.’ What did you do?’ she asked curiously, ‘because he ranted about it for another three metres but totally neglected to tell me what it was.’  
‘He jumped off of his broom to catch the snitch.’ Blaise had come in behind them: ‘From a height of 15 metres if not more.’  
‘Really?’ Faiella sounded unsure whether to be impressed or to be concerned for Draco’s mental health.’  
‘It was not as ‘suicidal’ as it sounds: I summoned my broom immediately after I caught the snitch, didn’t even have a scratch.’  
Faiella whistled, impressed and then turned to Blaise with a menacing look in her eyes:  
‘If you’re here, then who’s cooking lunch?’ Blaise’s face shifted slightly into what could only be described as a cute pout. Faiella threw her hands up in defeat after a few seconds while Draco tried very hard not to snicker.  
‘Brothers!’ She exclaimed: ‘You can be so happy that you have no brothers or sisters; Draco. If you want this one you can have him.’ With that she left them alone.  
‘Never mind her.’ Blaise said lightly: ‘She usually stops talking around the start of January.’  
Draco sniggered, ‘She’s great.’  
‘You hate people that talk nonstop,’ Blaise pointed out.   
Draco shrugged,‘Exceptions prove the rule.’ While speaking Blaise had moved to a cupboard and now handed Draco a towel:  
‘You look like you could use a shower.’ Draco took the towel but Blaise didn’t let go and their fingers touched on the soft fabric. Draco swallowed hard. Blaise hadn’t asked him a single question since London, hadn’t mentioned the last 12 hours at all. Maybe the time for questions had come now.  
‘You can borrow some of my clothes until they send your stuff from school. I told Dumbledore where you would be.’  
‘Thanks,’ Draco said sincerely. He felt immensely grateful towards Blaise.  
‘I hope it’s okay that I told McLaggen that you had some family troubles. He looked a bit freaked out when you didn’t return.’  
‘That wasn’t necessary. Who cares what McLaggen thinks?’ Draco replied harshly. Blaise’s face took an expression that was held a faint echo of surprise but before he could say anything, Faiella called their names.  
‘Take the shower; I’ll see you downstairs in five.’  
It was hard not shower longer than strictly necessary but Draco didn’t want to make a bad impression on Faiella, who he found genuinely likable if only because she was a side of Blaise that Draco hadn’t known existed and following her constant chatter meant not having time to think, which was something he really wanted to avoid.  
‘Hey, Blaise, why did you break up with what’s-her-name-again?’ Faiella asked as soon as they had all settled for lunch.  
‘Isn’t it enough for you that I did break up with Marisa?’ Blaise sounded amused and annoyed in equal parts.  
‘Nope,’ Faiella replied unfazed, ‘I want to know all the dirty details.’  
‘Don’t you have a life of your own?’  
‘Not at all, which means that I have to live vicariously through you.’  
‘What happened to Hugo?’  
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ Faiella grinned brightly: ‘I’ll trade Hugo against Marisa.’  
‘You’re first.’  
‘No, you’re first.’  
‘Fine, none of my friends liked her, she became annoyingly clingy and I don’t love her, enough?’  
Instead of answering, Faiella blew her brother a kiss and turned to Draco:  
‘What about you? Do you have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend? Blaise mentioned a Gryffindor but he never gives details when they would be interesting.’  
‘I’m so very sorry that I don’t give you the details of my friends’ private lives.’ Blaise practically oozed sarcasm but in a way that reminded Draco of Theo. It all bounced off of Faiella.  
‘Only if it upsets you. You had no qualms about telling me details last summer when it involved both of your friends.’  
Shit, Draco thought, had Theo and him been that obvious? It hadn’t meant more than comfort after their fathers had been arrested. He forcedly tore his thoughts from that and back to Blaise. He, too, had changed his clothes while Draco had showered and now wore black jeans and a black turtle-neck jumper. He looked like one of the models from the muggle fashion magazines that Blaise had stashed under his bed in Hogwarts.  
‘Draco?’ Faiella asked.  
‘Sorry. What did you say?’  
‘Your Gryffindor, are they pretty?’  
‘If you like them sturdy.’ Draco shot Blaise a dark look for that.  
‘There’s no Gryffindor,’ he explained to Faiella, ‘Blaise is getting ideas from one date.’  
‘A date where you kissed him in front of the whole party,’ Blaise added, ‘Plus a whole semester of flirting.’  
‘It was on a balcony hidden behind drapes,’ Draco corrected him, ‘And flirting doesn’t automatically mean that there’s something more.’  
‘Draco and his boyfriend crossed the whole room, holding hands to get to said balcony behind translucent drapes.’  
Draco felt anger rise up inside him. Blaise did know nothing about Draco’s ‘dealing’ with Cormac; he didn’t even talk to him during the goddamn party once since he had been too occupied with her.  
‘Your brother doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’ Draco knew that his anger was audible in his voice but he couldn’t stop himself. ‘He had to watch out for his ex too much.’  
‘You went with Marisa to a party after you’ve broken up with her?’ Faiella sputtered laughingly but her open, intelligent eyes rested on Draco.  
‘I wasn’t going to go alone after my friends abandoned me for a book and the worst Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen. Draco’s words, not mine.’  
‘What are you talking about?’ Draco asked irritated: ’You told me about Marisa a week before the party. You didn’t ask me.’  
‘Oh please,’ Blaise’s annoyed tone was filled with tension, ‘It was obvious that McLaggen was going to ask you out. Did you tell him that you’re not serious, because he sure as hell is.’  
They stared at each other for a few seconds and Draco was acutely aware that Faiella watched them and probably had everything already figured out. Draco counted mentally backwards from ten in Arabic and then shrugged casually:  
‘I’m a Slytherin, he should know that I would never be serious with a Gryffindor, especially one that is that bad at Quidditch.’  
‘And with a Gryffindor who’s as good in Quidditch as you are?’ Faiella asked but Draco could see that she knew that he knew that she wasn’t fooled the slightest bit.  
Blaise’s cough sounded suspiciously like ‘Potter’ and Draco ignored it.  
‘There’s no Gryffindor who is as good in Quidditch as me,’ Draco answered haughtily and both Blaise and Faiella laughed.  
After lunch Faiella dragged them to Paris by Flooing there, and used Blaise and Draco as mules for the various Christmas presents that she bought for her friends. When they came back very, very late, Draco’s suitcase sat on the doorstep together with a small package that was wrapped in an old newspaper. Despite his mistrust of the man’s motives, Draco felt a fleeting affection for Snape. Some things didn’t change; Snape’s unwillingness to use wrapping paper was one of them.  
After a waking period of nearly 40 hours, one would have thought that Draco would drop dead as soon as he hit the mattress, but he only lay awake while listening to Blaise softly snoring in the other bed. As soon as he was certain that Blaise was asleep, Draco had turned around to face Blaise. The beds stood close together, and if Draco would stretch out his hand, he could have touched Blaise’s face . It felt intimate, watching someone from so close when they were asleep. Blaise didn’t look younger or softer or anything that clichéd in sleep. Theo looked relaxed but Blaise looked...graceful, which was ridiculous because Blaise always looked graceful, no matter what, but when he slept he was missing the haughty air of knowing how attractive he was.  
The impulse to reach out, to touch, was almost overwhelming and Draco pinched his own arm hard to suppress it. He shifted onto his back and stared at the ceiling. There were more important things to think about. Draco would have to find a way to protect his father. Azkaban was not as safe as the Ministry pretended. Maybe he could contact one of the Death Eaters and make a bargain with the Dark Lord. He was a student at Hogwarts, which meant that he could reach people like Potter, or even Dumbledore, more easily than someone from outside.   
Joining Dumbledore was useless. People that opposed the Dark Lord had vanished for the past half year –  
Like my mother.  
Draco felt a sob creeping up his throat and bit down hard on his lip. He wouldn’t begin to cry. There was no way he would let Blaise see him this vulnerable. Only that a small part of him wanted that, wanted to be held by Blaise while he cried. Maybe Blaise would help him, Blaise would understand. His friends were everything Draco had left since his father and Snape seemed to be hell-bent on sacrificing Draco’s family for his safety.

When the red LED numbers of Blaise’s radio clock changed to 5:30, Draco gave up on any attempt to sleep and gathered his clothes with the practice of someone who had shared a room for years. The whole house was completely Muggle, but it has its benefits, as Blaise had explained to him on the way here. Apparently, Blaise and Faiella hadn’t spend Christmas with their mother since they had turned twelve and were used to take care of themselves for the two weeks of winter vacation that they spent here every year.  
When Draco came downstairs a light was on and Faiella lay on a couch, watching a Muggle film on TV. Films were the only Muggle thing that Draco allowed himself to enjoy, and if anyone would have asked, he would have blamed Theo for it.  
When she noticed him, Faiella turned the TV off.  
‘You’re up early,’ she said, and motioned him to sit down next to her.  
‘You, too,’ Draco answered when he sat down.  
‘I’m an early riser, especially so close to Christmas. I could never wait to open my presents.’ She laughed. The sleeves of her bright blue jumper were too long and fell over her hands.  
‘Aren’t you cold?’ He asked, gesturing to her bare feet. The last thing he would do in the Manor during winter was to walk around without thick socks and shoes unless he wanted to lose a toe or two.  
‘We have some kind of floor heating here,’ she explained, ‘When I was a kid we lived in Italy and I walked around barefooted all the time. It drives my classmates crazy.’  
‘Blaise doesn’t.’  
‘Blaise thinks that rebellion means choosing Hogwarts over Beauxbatons.’ Faiella snorted. ‘When our mother couldn’t care less.’  
Draco didn’t know what to say to that. Faiella was so carelessly open with personal information even though she didn’t know him. She must have seen how ill at ease he felt, because she said:  
‘Sorry, sometimes I talk too much.’  
‘I don’t mind,’ he assured her. He didn’t, but he also didn’t know how to handle her. They sat silently next to each other for a few minutes.  
‘Hey, are you going to help me make breakfast?’  
‘I’ve never...’  
‘Don’t worry; I’ll talk you through it.’

‘Now turn it.’ Faiella and Draco stood next to the stove and made pancakes.  
‘Mmmh, that smells good.’ Blaise had finally woken up and entered the kitchen.  
‘Morning, sleepy head.’ Faiella hit Blaise’s hand when he tried to reach for a pancake.  
‘Hey, it’s barely 8.00 am,’ Blaise protested and spooned a bit of the pancake dough out of the bowl.  
‘Eww, that’s disgusting!’ Faiella exclaimed and Draco hit Blaise’s knuckles with the spatula when he tried it a second time.  
‘Ow.’ Blaise rubbed his fingers theatrically.  
‘You’re not supposed to eat raw dough. It’s bad for your stomach,’ Draco told him.  
‘You would know,’ Blaise muttered darkly.  
‘More than I care to admit.’ Draco grinned, if a bit strained because the last time he had eaten too much dough had been last Christmas when he and his parents had made biscuits.  
‘I’ll make coffee!’ Faiella announced, and jumped off of the counter she had been sitting on to monitor Draco’s attempts at making pancakes. Blaise took her empty seat immediately.  
‘Draco.’ Faiella grinned meaningful at him and Draco returned the look.  
‘Faiella.’  
‘I hate you,’ Blaise said but his yawn didn’t make it sound sincere.  
‘Yeah? Why?’ Draco hit him again when Blaise made a third attempt at the dough.  
‘Ow, because of that. You should be my ally against my sister and not her ally.’ Blaise accused him.  
‘Your sister taught me how to make pancakes,’ Draco said as if that answered everything.  
‘Mm.’ Blaise made a positive noise in his throat before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against Draco’s shoulder. Suddenly Draco’s heart beat faster and in his stomach he felt something very akin to nervousness.  
‘I’m prettier, though.’  
‘Says who?’ Draco asked, very careful not to make a move that would make Blaise take his head off of his shoulder.  
‘Ask everyone, except McLaggen and Theo.’ Draco let the comment about Cormac slide.  
‘Why not Theo?’  
‘He likes you more than me. He thinks you’re prettier because you get better grades than me.’  
‘So, Theo finds me more attractive than you because of my brain.’ Draco asked amused.  
‘I said that, didn’t I?’

A day spent skiing was finally so exhausting that Draco fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. He dreamt of Azkaban, or at least he thought that it was Azkaban, but there were no Dementors, no other prisoners. He was alone, running through empty hallways that had no doors and no exits, just slits in the stonework where grey light fell inside.  
And from beyond the walls, he heard Bellatrix’s mad laughter.

Only Faiella was in when he came downstairs. She sat at the dining table with books and papers spread around her.  
‘Oh, hey!’ She gave him one of her open, warm smiles. Draco wondered if Blaise had ever smiled the same way or if this was a trait that Faiella didn’t share with her brother.  
‘Homework?’ He guessed.  
‘Yup. I think teachers in training are indoctrinated that vacation’s only purpose is to be filled with as much homework as possible. I sincerely begin to doubt my course choices. It’s not like I am ever going to need any of this except Charms.’  
There was a pretty good chance that he would never see her again, but small talk came more often than not effortlessly over his lips. Some people like Potter and his blood traitor followers just didn’t deserve it.  
‘What are you planning to do?’  
‘Construction working and planning.’ She smiled: ‘What about you?’  
‘Taking over the family business. It’s mostly trade.’  
‘And you like that?’ She asked disbelievingly.  
‘It’s better than it sounds. You meet many different people, travel to foreign places.’  
‘You make that sounds as if that were a good thing.’  
‘It’s better than the opposite.’ He thought about England and how small the wizard community there was, especially the circle of people who were acceptable; everyone knew everyone or was related to the next person; always the same boring people with their dull conversations. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Blaise in the beginning: he was new, unknown, like a white spot on the landscape.  
He said as much to Faiella, who said,‘You really like my brother, don’t you?’ Draco looked up sharply but tried to give nothing away.‘He’s my friend. ‘True friendship’ is one of the most important qualities of a Slytherin.’  
‘And the other qualities?’ She threw him a flirty smile.  
‘Loyalty, intelligence, subterfuge, deviousness.’  
‘Sounds dangerous.’ She tilted her head sideways and gave him an impish grin that made Draco slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t flirt with girls and certainly not with Blaise’s sister, it just felt wrong.  
Fortunately, he was rescued when the front door opened and Blaise stepped inside, carrying a bag with food in his arms. When he saw them at the dining table he frowned slightly.  
‘Am I interrupting anything?’  
‘Of course not.’ Faiella opened her hair band, shook her head and then retied her hair again, all in the matter of maybe fifteen seconds.   
Blaise’s frown didn’t cease and without taking his eyes off of his sister he asked Draco,‘Hey, want to help me with the cooking this time?’  
Draco followed Blaise into the kitchen and waited while Blaise stored the food away.  
‘Did she bother you?’ Blaise asked and only the slightest tension in his voice betrayed his calm face and carefully off-hand tone.  
‘Who? Faiella?’   
Blaise nodded.  
‘NO, should she?’ Blaise looked distinctly uncomfortable now.  
‘Don’t mind her, it’s just that she has a thing for people who are taken, or at least have someone else interested in them.’  
‘Even then, it’s not like we’re going to the same school.’ In an attempt to lighten the mood, Draco said, ‘But it’s cute that you’re trying to warn me off of your sister.’   
But Blaise didn’t rise to the bait. He simply answered with a ‘sure’ and handed Draco a net full of oranges to peel.

Desperately needing some privacy, Draco excused himself that evening to read a book upstairs while Faiella and Blaise chose to watch some kind of Christmas movie.  
He didn’t read. He just lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling with the open book on his stomach in case someone would walk in. Tomorrow was Christmas, and he was alone. He was imprisoned in some fucking nightmare where his father suddenly drew the line for ambition at his son’s safety and his wife agreed with him. Not for the first time Draco felt like curling up and crying, but he wouldn’t. He was a Malfoy, a Slytherin.  
Voices from downstairs caught his attention. They were muffled but if he could hear them up here then the people in Blaise’s and Faiella’s movie were shouting fairly loudly.  
Draco opened the door and stepped outside. His socked feet made no noise on the wooden floor. The light was switched off and the only brightness came from a frozen TV-picture of a bright pink background with shadow-ballet dancers on it.  
The voices, however, didn’t come from the TV. It came from Blaise and Faiella who stood about a metre apart and were shouting at each other.  
‘You don’t even know him!’ Blaise shouted.  
‘I thought you didn’t want him?’ Faiella hissed back, ‘Or you would have made your move by now.’  
‘He’s taken anyway.’  
‘Not by his opinion.’  
‘Draco can be very selective about the things he acknowledges and the things he doesn’t.’  
‘Like you.’ Faiella sneered, an expression that didn’t let her look nice and friendly anymore.  
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Blaise answered coldly and crossed his arms over his chest. Faiella made a step towards him and let her arms flew wide from her body:  
‘He’s in love with you! Any idiot can see that.’  
Draco made a noise at the upper end of the stairs and both Zabinis turned around. Faiella’s face instantly changed to an apologetic expression.  
‘Hi, did we disturb your reading?’ She asked nonchalantly as if she just hadn’t disclosed his most personal secret to the one person who should have never known it.  
‘No, I was just looking for a glass of water,’ Draco replied equally nonchalantly.  
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning for the gift unwrapping.’ She winked at Draco and brushed against him when she walked by him on the stairs.  
When they heard a door close, Blaise switched the light back on and the TV set off. He was very carefully not looking at Draco, who went into the kitchen to get said glass of water.  
When he came back, Blaise sat on the couch, very still and very straight. Draco sat down at the opposite end of the couch.  
‘How long had you been standing there?’  
‘I just came through the door,’ Draco lied.  
‘Good. Faiella and I argue sometimes.’  
‘Yes, I’ve heard that that’s common among sisters and brothers.’  
‘So, you’re not together with McLaggen?’  
‘I’ve tried to tell you that for months.’  
‘Hey, but you did kiss him on the balcony.’  
‘You’ve kissed a different girl at every party before going out with Marisa during the last four years and I’ve never assumed anything.’  
‘But I’m me and you’re you. When I kiss someone it means nothing, but when you kiss someone it means the world.’  
‘And if we would kiss each other?’ Draco asked before he could stop himself. He really needed more sleep when his control was slipping that easily.  
‘That will be an interesting day.’ Blaise threw him a beautiful smile: ‘Don’t you think?’  
‘Interesting, yes,’ Draco said contemplatively and looked away from Blaise.  
‘Do you want to kiss me?’ Blaise asked in a mix of flirtatiousness and disbelief.  
‘No,’ Draco said firmly but apparently not firmly enough because Blaise moved over with a grin on his face.  
‘No?’  
‘No.’  
Blaise kissed him. Draco tried to fight, tried to move backwards but Blaise was too insistent, grabbed his arms with both hands, lost his balance and pressed Draco into the couch.

During the next days, over Christmas, Draco felt happy in a embarrassingly giddy way. Blaise and Faiella seemed to have cleared their argument and it wasn’t hard to laugh when Faiella became enamoured with her Christmas present from one of her friends from Beauxbatons: a bright blue jumper with white stripes.  
Draco gave Blaise a ring with a snake, one that most Slytherins had, but it still prompted a few giggles from Faiella. He suspected that Blaise had told her about them, eventhough nothing had happened but a few kisse,s or more than a few kisses, as Blaise seemed to like to crowd Draco against the nearest piece of furniture or wall and kiss him. Different from Blaise, Draco didn’t like sex, especially not casual sex. It was too intimate, the sensations too immediate and too strong and on top of that sex required a certain amount of trust that Draco wasn’t willing to give most people. Theo was an exception and Blaise, well Blaise too, apparently.  
Actually, Blaise didn’t have to tell Faiella anything. She would have to be blind not to see what was going on.  
It was a few days out of a fairytale, and like all fairytales it came to an end.

‘Mine, mine, mine, mine;’ Faiella was sorting through the morning post that had piled up on the kitchen table after the swarm of owls was gone. During Christmas, even post-owls held holidays, which meant a stack of letters on December 27th.  
‘Mine, Mum, Mine, Mine, Mine, hey Draco one for you, looks official.’ She tossed him the parchment and went back to muttering, ‘Mine, mine, mine.....’  
The parchment held actually two letters: a notice from the Ministry that they would release his mother’s body, and the second one was a letter from Keyx about the date for the funeral and what he needed Draco to do himself.  
‘Morning.’ Blaise walked downstairs in an unbuttoned shirt and rubbing a towel over his short and freshly washed hair. He half-leaned, half sat on the kitchen table and his foot somehow ended up on Draco’s thigh, the long toes playfully gripping the material of Draco’s trousers.  
‘Lots of letters for you.’ Blaise threw Faiella an exasperated grin. ‘Should I worry?’  
‘There’s one from Marisa Jayne, Mr. Monogamous.’ Faiella bit out and threw the parchment as hard as she could against Blaise’s naked chest. Blaise didn’t even look at the roll before casting it aside, which, as embarrassing as it was to admit, made Draco’s day.


	4. Chapter Four

The day of his mother’s funeral had come earlier than Draco had expected. He had decided to bury her in the family tomb in the back garden. The Blacks had their own family grave, but his mother was better than any of her family: She was a Malfoy and she had died like one; loyal to her family to the last.  
The mansion that had been frighteningly silent and lonely for the last week since he had left Blaise and Faiella for it was filled with people that wished to give their condolences to him as the representative of his family.  
Not unusual for a funeral, even people who had shunned his family since his father had been imprisoned last summer had come, two or three of them from the Ministry, the rest business officials that worked with his father. To his surprise and disgust he could make out Andromeda Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora among the guests. They had no right to be here, as she had forsaken her family to marry a Muggle.  
‘You’re getting mellow, Draco.’ Draco whirled sideways and found himself face to face with Theo. He felt very much like hugging him but that would be absolutely inappropriate so he did nothing of the sort.  
‘To cause a scandal at my mother’s funeral over her sister giving her respects would not be acceptable,’ he said instead. His family’s name was soiled enough in the eyes of the public, and he wouldn’t add to it, no matter how much their presence angered him.  
‘How come you’re here?’  
‘I came with Snape. He and Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea if you weren’t alone today.’ Draco couldn’t help himself but admire Snape for sending Theo to him, who was able to endure Draco’s mood swings with an evenness that bordered on lethargic.  
‘So Snape’s here, too?’  
‘No, he paid his respects to your mother and then left again. He said something about that you wouldn’t like to see him.’ Snape was probably right with that.  
For the rest of the day it was like he had a living, breathing shadow and Theo’s warm and alive presence at his side was reassuring while he shook hands and made polite conversation with people who were not sorry at all.  
It was the most dreadful day in his life.  
Fortunately, most guests left as soon as it seemed polite to do so. Keyx wanted to speak with him afterwards, so Draco went over to Theo and Snape to thank them for coming, as they were the last guests.  
‘Draco.’  
‘Professor.’  
‘Thank you for coming today. I know it would have meant a lot to my mother. She always saw you as her trusted friend.’  
‘Of course.’ Snape’s tone held just the slightest bit of irony. Draco turned to Theo:  
‘Thanks.’  
‘I’ll see you in school tomorrow, then?’  
‘Yes.’  
It was a strange departure. Draco wanted to go with them, back to Hogwarts and away from this silent house that held no warm welcome for him anymore.

Draco coughed through the ashes of Dumbledore’s office fireplace. He had barely slept last night, rolling from one side to the other. Keyx had updated him on the financial and economic situation. At the moment was everything fine, not grand, but better than expected during the current situation. However, Keyx had stressed that if the situation worsened after Draco turned 17, it could be necessary for him to drop out of school and take his father’s place.  
‘Mr. Malfoy, welcome back.’ Dumbledore greeted him, ‘I hope you had a pleasant vacation, as pleasant as possible under the circumstances, at least.’  
‘Yes, thank you, sir.’  
‘I believe you want to go to breakfast first.’ Dumbledore looked at him over his golden glasses: ‘Please believe me, Draco, that you have my sincerest regrets for your loss.’  
‘Thank you.’

Entering the Great Hall, his senses were assaulted by the noise of a school full of students and the smell of breakfast. He could see his friends at the Slytherin table: Pansy waved at him, both Crabbe and Goyle looked like they were glad to have him back, Theo smiled and even Blaise abandoned his meal long enough to smirk at him ,which did something treacherous to Draco’s innards.  
Being back to Hogwarts was like being back to life. Well known faces around him, long honed habits and the easiness of a life with a certain and unchanged schedule. Even his hatred for Potter was something familiar and comforting in a certain way.  
He had even had the entertainment of Blaise and Cormac glaring at each other from each side of the hall before he came in for dinner.   
‘Hi, Draco.’ Blaise smiled lazily and leaned against the doorway to the staircase downstairs to the main room. They were alone: ‘You dropped your shadow for today?’  
‘Oh, I can always bring him back.’ Draco appeared to be uninterested when the truth couldn’t be farther from it.  
‘He doesn’t look like the sharing type.’ Before Draco could reply, Theo wandered in and gave them both a stern glance:  
‘If you two start snogging in here, I’m going to hex you in your sleep.’  
‘You’re no fun,’ Blaise called out to him but Theo ignored him with an ease that came from years of practice.  
Then came the next morning, and literally everything went to hell.

The thing about the day lives went to hell was this: it rarely if ever showed. These days had sunshine and summer warmth, or rainstorms, or postcard, snow-covered landscapes. They began with dreadful breakfasts full of undercooked eggs and bacon so hard it could have been hammered into a wall to support shelves or with breakfast in bed with fresh coffee and over warm croissants. In short, days that ended in hell could begin good or bad or average.  
For Draco this day began as a pretty good day. He woke up early, earlier than anyone else in his dorm except Blaise whose bed was already vacated, and went down to breakfast, in his mind calculating a new training schedule for his Quidditch team.  
The Great Hall was only half-full. Most of the teachers were there except for Snape and Dumbledore. The first thing he noticed was Blaise, who had his arm draped over Marisa’s shoulders and was smiling at whatever she was saying to him.  
Of course, Draco thought; it’s as Blaise said: kissing means nothing to him. Draco tried to not feel disappointed, and failed miserably. He considered turning around and skipping breakfast until he noticed a Ravenclaw girl who had seen him and whispered to her friend and suddenly he had the attention of the whole hall. It made him feel uncomfortable, but he held his head high and wandered over to the Slytherin table. He passed Potter’s minions, and was he imagining things or had Weasley just given him a pitiful look? Blaise, on the other hand, didn’t seem to see him at all. It hurt more than Draco cared to admit even to himself.  
‘Draco.’ It was Vaisey, known school-wide as an exceptionally early riser. He sounded unsure and tried to cover the first page of his Daily Prophet. Draco grabbed the newspaper. The front page read in bold letters:  
Death Eaters attack Azkaban to kill traitors.   
Beneath it was a row of photos of the people killed: Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Jones, Malfoy. All of them Death Eaters with children who had been arrested in the Ministry last summer.  
Draco dropped the Daily Prophet as if it had burnt him and nearly ran out of the Great Hall. He felt sick. Like his skin was melting from his body. As if he had swallowed acid. And worse than all of the above he felt like crying. He pushed a door open that he knew led to a bathroom, although he wasn’t sure which bathroom, where, not that cared anyway.  
Over the nearest sink, he dry-heaved until his knees gave in and he hit the stone floor hard. There were no noises coming from his throat, just a mixture of silent sobs and tears flowing over his cheeks while he half sat, half lay on the floor and made no effort to get up.  
Suddenly the door was opened and someone stepped in. Draco tripped over his own feet in an attempt to rise from the floor. He wasn’t going to let anyone see him like this.  
Then he saw Potter’s reflection in one of the mirrors. Long conditioned practice made him draw his wand and he yelled:  
‘Cru-‘But it was cut short by a spell Draco had never heard before:  
‘Sectumsempra!’  
Pain shot through him as if someone had sliced him open with a fine knife. He felt how his skin and flesh were forced open. The blinding agony constricted his throat, made him unable to scream, washed his eyesight with white edges and black spots, had him listen to the pounding of his own blood and nothing else. When unconsciousness reached for him, he didn’t fight it.

Draco drew the blanket up to and around his shoulders after Madame Pomfrey was finished changing the bandages on his arms and upper body. Three days ago Snape had saved his life on the floor of a girl’s bathroom, when Draco had had no intention of surviving. At least they had respected his wish to be left alone, no visitors no matter who it was, which included Snape, as he had told Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey when he had woken up for the first time. His friends had their own losses to deal with and he didn’t need Pansy’s pity or Cormac’s and the last person in the world he ever wanted to see again was Blaise.  
He would be released today, but he had asked Madame Pomfrey to let him stay until he had his meeting with Dumbledore in the late afternoon. The later he saw his classmates again the better.  
He felt numb, numb and lethargic, some of it due the pain medication but the rest – the rest was something he didn’t think about, something he put back to far end of his mind and stuffed it deep into a metaphoric box. He was not even interested in Potter’s detention. Once upon a time, he would have lobbied relentlessly for the bastard to be put into Azkaban for nearly killing him, but now he simply didn’t care enough to make the effort of hate.  
His torn uniform had been mended, but he had some difficulty in putting it on, as both of his arms were still bandaged, but he didn’t want to ask for help.  
‘Mr. Malfoy?’ She asked from the other side of the curtain: ‘Are you dressed or do you need help?’  
Madame Pomfrey had been unusually gentle with him. Draco couldn’t say if it was out of pity or because he had been so docile for the last three days. Maybe both.  
‘I’m ready.’ Draco stepped out behind the curtain.  
‘Remember to come back here tomorrow so I can change your bandages.’  
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Draco replied automatically. He had never before noticed how much effort it took to be haughty or arrogant.  
Fortunately he didn’t meet any other students on the short walk from the infirmary to Dumbledore’s office. Snape met him in front of the gargoyle and accompanied him to the Headmaster’s office. Draco didn’t even look at him when, while the staircase brought them upwards, Snape laid a hand on his shoulder. The apathy had killed every spark of the anger he’d held against Snape a week ago at his mother’s funeral.  
‘Ah, Draco, how are you?’ Dumbledore asked in a friendly manner when Draco and Snape entered. Somehow that managed to spark something of his old sarcasm.  
The boy I like went back to his ex-girlfriend after kissing me, my father was killed two days after I held the funeral of my mother, murdered by the same people, and I was sliced open by your favourite student, but thanks for asking.  
‘Better,’ he replied.  
‘That’s good to hear.’ Dumbledore actually looked as if he meant what he was saying.  
‘There’s of course the question of your legal guardianship.’  
Draco threw Snape a questioning look. He had thought that that role would fall to Snape as his godfather.  
‘The Ministry thought that there might be a conflict in Professor Snape taking over your guardianship, as he is your teacher and Head of House.’  
You mean because he’s a Death Eater and they don’t trust him as much as you do, Draco’s reawakened mind unhelpfully supplied in a scathing inner voice.  
‘And as there’s no one left on your father’s side, I thought it best to ask your aunt to take the responsibility.  
The blood-traitor aunt with the Auror daughter that helped sign his parents’ death sentence in the end, nice, his sarcastic inner voice commented.  
‘But as you’re going to stay in school until you reach adulthood, it’s only a formality, after all.’ Dumbledore smiled at him friendly. It was pointless to ask after his father’s corpse. Prisoners of Azkaban weren’t allowed to be buried anywhere else but on the island, a last and final punishment for them and their families, and that as soon as possible, so he had probably missed it already.  
‘Did they bury my father yet?’ He still had to ask.  
‘Unfortunately the Ministry didn’t see it fit to allow the burial to be held a few days later, but they wouldn’t allow any minors to the ceremony in any case.’ Ceremony was probably an exaggerated word for what they did with the dead on Azkaban but it meant that Theo hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his father either.  
‘What about Theo?’ As far Draco remembered Theo had no family anywhere, blood traitors or otherwise.  
‘Mr. Nott has been placed under the guardianship of the Ministry for the remaining four days until his 17th birthday. Is there anything else I can help you with at the moment?’  
‘No, thank you, sir.’

The warmth and loudness of the Common Room hit him like two crossing waves crashing into each other right over his head.  
‘Draco!’ Pansy had spotted him and waved enthusiastically to make him join her, Goyle, Crabbe and Theo in one corner of the common room.  
Draco sat down next to Theo on a small couch. He was relieved to neither see Blaise nor Marisa anywhere. It was relaxing just to sit here and listen to Crabbe and Goyle detailing their terror on the younger students during the last days and Pansy describing Potter’s punishment, which wasn’t Azkaban but would ensure Gryffindor ‘s failure to win the Quidditch Cup this year. In between, his Quidditch team members came over to voice how glad they were that he was still there, because the rumours of the extent of his wounds had been over the top.  
‘Move, would you?’ Blaise said while already trying to sit down between Theo and Draco. When he had sat down, he looked sideways at Draco:  
‘Welcome back. Good to see you’re not dead.’ Draco stiffened and pressed himself against the armrest of the small sofa to avoid any physical contact with Blaise.  
‘I’m glad about it too,’ Draco replied sarcastically.  
‘Hey, Blaise, how’s your girlfriend?’ Pansy asked.  
‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’  
‘So, you kiss your ex-girlfriends, too?’ Pansy’s eyebrows disappeared under her fringe.  
‘Marisa hasn’t been my girlfriend since one week before Christmas. Just because I’m nice to her doesn’t mean we’re back together,’ Blaise explained, then leaned forward to ask: ‘But what about you Pansy? Someone in sight since Draco decided not to bother with girls?’  
‘Why? Are you looking for a rebound?’ Pansy threw him a sweet, ironic smile.  
‘Sorry, Pansy, but I like them, you know, beautiful.’  
‘Ouch,’ Theo commentated from the sideline.  
‘Congratulations Blaise. Once again you prove your utter shallowness which is unbefitting for a Slytherin but very common for half-bloods.’  
If her words affected Blaise in any way then he didn’t show it, but Draco knew how Blaise and every other Slytherin reacted to having their flaw dragged out in the spotlight.  
‘Hurts you to see that a Half-Blood can have anyone he wants and a Pure-Blood like you is still a virgin.’ Blaise’s smile was cold and sardonic.  
‘I am not a virgin and unlike you, I’m also not a whore,’ Pansy countered, ‘Oh, and these girls you’ve had? Anyone could have had them.’  
‘At least I’m not ‘whoring’ myself out to a Gryffindor.’  
Draco cut in, forcing his voice to be calm and casual,‘I’ve repeatedly told you during the vacations that I don’t have anything to do with Cormac.’  
‘And you’ve repeatedly failed to have sex with me during the holidays.’ Blaise mimicked Draco’s tone: ‘That wasn’t exactly helping your defence. Hell, it took you nearly a week to let me kiss you. If I didn’t know that you’ve been fucked by Theo last summer I’d assume you were a virgin too.’ He looked at Pansy and raised his hands with a smirk, ‘No offence to you.’  
Draco stared at him, not believing what Blaise had said to him the moment before. This was all just some nightmare and he would wake up any minute now because if it wasn’t, then his life was derailing faster than he could say stop.  
‘Why should I want sex with you?’ He sneered at Blaise and stood up: ‘I need to speak with Snape.’ They changed the Aurors’ routes every week, but somehow he managed to avoid any of them until he reached the clock tower. Snow had covered the whole landscape, every mountain and valley, and ice floes decorated the lake.  
He heard footsteps behind him but it wasn’t Blaise’s easy, dancing steps but the light and quiet walk of Theo. He leaned against the railing next to Draco.  
‘You shouldn’t listen to Blaise. He’s an arse,’ Theo said after a while.  
‘I know what he is,’ Draco snapped. He had known all this time but his great flaw was that he didn’t have the patience of his father to rule over his emotions.   
Theo chuckled:‘You really have it bad for him, don’t you?’  
‘If you ever tell anyone, I’ll kill you.’ Draco’s fast beating heart betrayed his cool tone.  
‘Look around you, Draco.’ Theo shook his head: ‘Blaise does his best to humiliate you as McLaggen’s whore. The last thing anyone would believe is that you’re in love with Blaise.’  
‘I’m not in love with him.’  
‘No? What would you call him?’  
‘I...’ Draco hesitated.  
‘That’s what I thought.’ Theo put a hand on his back: ‘I don’t know what you have to do to get over him but do it, Draco.’

‘Hey, Draco!’ Draco briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he turned around with a smile.  
‘Hi.’  
‘Haven’t seen much of you lately.’  
‘I had to catch up with the lessons and stuff.’  
‘I’ve wanted to visit you in the infirmary but Pomfrey wouldn’t let me.’  
‘I didn’t want to see anyone. I wasn’t exactly at my best.’ Cormac stepped nearer and touched the end of the bandage on Draco’s arm that showed under the shirt.  
‘For what it’s worth: I’m sorry about your parents.’  
‘Thank you.’ Draco would have given a lot to hear those words from Blaise but he knew now that that was never going to happen. And Cormac was, well, he was here and at least he seemed to care about him. Thinking about Blaise and about the advice Theo had given him, Draco asked recklessly:  
‘Do you want to get out of here?’  
‘Sure,’ Cormac said as if his grin hadn’t already told Draco what he needed to know.  
They weren’t allowed to be outside of the castle after sunset, but Draco knew some shortcuts that were common knowledge in Slytherin. Sometimes it paid off to live in a cellar.  
They slipped out onto the grounds into a silent world made out of snow and clouds. It was somehow bright outside, due to the snow and the clouds reflecting every bit of light, and yet it wasn’t.  
Draco shivered in the cold air and Cormac drew him nearer to him. Draco shifted even nearer and reached up with one hand to tilt Cormac’s head downwards to kiss him. It didn’t feel like kissing Blaise at all. Blaise’s kisses had been light and playful whereas Cormac kissed him like he wanted him, here, now.  
Cormac’s hands pulled impatiently at Draco’s shirt to slip his cold hand under the fabric and let them glide over his skin, the other hand splayed along Draco’s right cheek and jawline. Draco shivered at the contact and involuntarily pressed himself closer to Cormac, wrapping his arms around his neck.  
They parted breathlessly, breathing harshly with their mouths only inches from each other.  
‘Hi,’ Cormac said huskily, his breath white, little clouds in the eerily bright winter night light.  
‘Hi,’ replied Draco. He felt weird, warm and cold at the same time and shivered again.  
‘We should go back inside.’ Cormac sounded genuinely concerned, but Draco’s displeasure stirred in his chest.  
‘I don’t want to,’ he said and kissed Cormac again. He decided there and then that he liked kissing. Kissing was like the promise of a warm, safe place underneath the skin of the other person.  
His fingers brushed against Cormac’s bare neck between his hair and his scarf and Cormac broke the kiss.  
‘Seriously, Draco, you feel like an ice cube already.’ Cormac laughed at the face Draco made.  
‘I told you I don’t want to.’  
‘We don’t have to go to the dorms, just inside. I’m pretty sure there’s somewhere we can go.’

‘How do you know this place?’ Draco asked when they slipped into the Prefects’ bath.   
‘There was this cute Hufflepuff Prefect girl two years ago...’ Cormac trailed off with a leer, while he draped his coat over the painting of the annoying mermaid. When Draco came here, he usually hexed her out of the painting to have his peace when he bathed.  
‘You know, people usually take their clothes off in a bathroom.’ Cormac grinned at Draco who tried not to stand too awkwardly at the side of the bath-pool.  
Truth was, no matter what Blaise thought he and Theo had done last summer, it hadn’t been more than jerking each other off. It had been about emotional comfort, about the reminder that they were not alone, that there was someone else who felt the same. Sex had been the last thing on either of their minds.  
Draco undressed, self-conscious about his naked body, every flaw and angle that didn’t meet the expectations of the male models from Blaise’s magazines and slipped into the hot water.  
Cormac waded through the hot water to him and kissed him. Draco was actually a bit taller than Cormac, but here, pressed against the wall and surrounded by Cormac’s arms he felt small and safe. He could feel Cormac’s erection press against his thigh, felt the small movements Cormac made to rub against him and he gave up. It was not unlike submitting to the Imperius curse, the freedom that came with not thinking, not caring and not being responsible. Draco was intoxicated with arousal and desperation and simply let go.  
Cormac took him on the warm tiles next to the bath-pool, rough and careful at the same time.  
‘So, are you going to run off again?’ Cormac asked afterwards when they both lay on their sides, facing each other. The bathroom was still warm and steamy enough to make it comfortable to lie here: ‘Like you did after that kiss?’  
‘I didn’t run off.’ Draco protested.  
‘No, you didn’t,’ agreed Cormac, then he snickered, ‘Slughorn’s face was priceless, though. I mean everyone gaped at you but Slughorn seemed to have a hard time wrapping his head around the whole ‘boy on boy’ concept.’  
‘Like this?’ Draco pushed Cormac on his back and slid a leg over his waist so that he could sit on top of him. Cormac sat up on his elbows:  
‘The imudence of the newly de-virginzed.’ Cormac’s grin got only brighter when Draco slapped him lightly.  
Suddenly, someone knocked sharply at the door:  
‘I know you don’t want to,’ came a female voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Draco, ‘but it’s way past bedtime for you.’  
They scrambled up in slight panic, cursing school uniforms that looked too similar even in different sizes and from different houses.  
Outside waited Nymphadora Tonks, looking like she was trying very hard not to grin.  
‘Hi, Draco.’ She smiled but Draco ignored her and her smile faltered, ‘If anyone asks, you have my permission but avoid the right side of the second floor: Savage patrols there.’  
‘You know her?’ Cormac asked when they reached the fourth floor where they needed to go separate ways to reach their dorms.  
‘She’s my half-blood cousin.’ Draco’s expression made clear what he thought of that connection: ‘Her mother’s a blood traitor.’  
‘If you don’t like half-bloods why do you spent so much time with Zabini?’  
‘Even a king needs a jester.’ Draco answered with a pretentious smirk.  
‘See you tomorrow then.’ Cormac leaned in and kissed him quickly before leaving through the next door.

There was someone sitting in the chair nearest to the fire and Draco’s heart beat faster when he realized that it was Blaise, but he was careful that his face didn’t give away any of his thoughts.  
‘Ran into trouble with that Auror again?’ Blaise asked.  
‘I’m irresistible like that.’ Draco smirked instead of an answer. He crossed the room and sat down on a sofa not far from Blaise, but directly next to him.  
‘You’ve got a present for Theo for tomorrow?’  
‘Weeks ago.’ He did. During the last Hogmseade weekend he had bought the newest novel from Theo’s favourite author, something written by a Muggle, but Draco had long stopped to make fun of it, sometime after he had read one of them himself and found it intriguing, even if he would never admit it.  
‘Something for your boyfriend, too?’  
‘Isn’t it boring for you to insult me when no one’s there to listen to you?’ Draco countered.  
‘It’s fun enough for me,’ Blaise replied.  
‘After weeks, it’s rather tiresome.’  
‘So, you’re not denying it anymore.’ Blaise twisted his upper body slightly towards Draco and leaned back against the side of his chair.  
‘A pureblood in Gryffindor is still better than a half-blood.’  
‘That’s not what everyone else thinks.’  
‘I don’t care about everyone else.’ He stood up: ‘Good night, Blaise.’  
Draco had reached the stairs leading to the dorms when Blaise’s voice floated through the empty room to him:  
‘I know that you care.’ Draco stopped short, his hand on the doorframe, and was tempted for a moment to reply something but didn’t trust himself and walked away.

The dorms were filled with the sound of people sleeping, but light seeped out between the curtains of Theo’s bed. Draco rummaged around in his trunk, found what he was looking for, and went over to Theo’s bed. He slipped inside between the curtains and felt relieved when Theo said nothing but simply moved to let Draco sit next to him.  
‘Happy Birthday.’ Draco whispered and gave him the book.  
‘Thanks.’ Theo said, a little dry. Their fingers touched over the book’s spine and curled themselves around each other. The book fell with a soft noise onto the blanket between their bodies.  
‘Come on.’ Theo lifted the covers and Draco slipped underneath them without a word, which got him a raised eyebrow from Theo.  
‘Not afraid of what Blaise will say?’  
‘Blaise will talk no matter what I do.’ Suddenly, Draco felt very, very tired and his head pounded as if he had drunk too much Firewhiskey. He lay down on his side, his face half buried in the crook of his arm.  
‘Why couldn’t it have been you?’ Draco asked.  
‘Because that would have been too easy,’ Theo replied evenly. He put his hand over Draco’s eyes.  
‘Sleep.’ Then he picked up his book.


	5. Chapter Five

The days began to blur into each other again. It was, however, a good blur, like a gradual recovery from a long illness. School, Quidditch, homework and Cormac. It should have been weirder dating someone from a different house,, but it wasn’t. In fact to an outsider it had to look like nothing had changed between Draco and Cormac and Draco appreciated that.  
He avoided Blaise as much as possible, which wasn’t much when they slept in the same dorm, played on the same team and had more than one class together. Blaise’s comments about Draco’s private life hadn’t ceased, but Draco became used to them, could brush them off more easily even if that didn’t stop them from hurting him.  
Sometimes the prospect of leaving Hogwarts after this year was a temptingly easy solution to his problems, but he knew that the business world was a harsh and cold place where everyone fought for themselves and no one was anyone’s friend. It was both the right and the wrong place for a Slytherin. The right place because it was an easy place to satisfy your ambition, and the wrong place because a Slytherin needed friends and family more than any other house. They didn’t have hoards of friends but the few one had, you could usually trust your life with.  
His father had had a family, had had friends, but Draco began to suspect that he didn’t possess his father’s loyalty-inspiring personality or his ability to see a person for what they were and how their weaknesses could be used.  
The most important relationships of your life will be forged in school, his father had taught him that, and here he was, fucking a boy and mooning over another when he should be looking for a suitable girl and useful friends.  
The third Quidditch match this year loomed in the near distance and despite the really nasty weather which contained mostly icy rain, stormy icy rain and hailstorm icy rain, Draco and all of the other three Quidditch captains were adamant about training. It was a small miracle in itself that none of them were killed in a mutinous coup.  
The match against Ravenclaw went well enough. The team obviously still felt the loss of Roger Davies and Cho Chang had been replaced with a new Seeker, a second year Mudblood who looked like a Weasley and, while a better flyer than Chang, was clearly losing stamina the longer the game went. Not that Draco or anyone else appreciated that the match dragged on slowly in the current stormy icy rain that made it difficult for him to follow the game while looking for the snitch, which, Draco suspected, had found and nicely dry and warm place to wait the weather out.  
The snitch decided to show itself four hours later, when every one of them was drenched to the bones and shivering like madmen. The whole affair lasted frantic 30 seconds where Draco tried to keep the slick gold ball in his hands while not falling from his broom – again, and the Ravenclaw seeker tried not to fall from his broom, period.  
If they hadn’t won it, this match would have been the most frustrating one he had ever played, but now it only ranked second to every match against Gryffindor, except the last one.  
As soon as they entered the changing rooms, Blaise took off his tricot and threw it backwards – right into Hestia’s face.  
‘Watch your stuff, Zabini.’ Draco snapped angrily. Cold water still ran from his wet hair over his face and neck and did nothing to raise his mood.   
‘Or what, Draco?’ Blaise turned around and smiled sweetly. Half-naked and wet as he was Draco had to force his eyes away from Blaise’s bare chest and the way his skin moved over his flat chest and stomach but he managed.  
‘Or I’ll replace you with Urquhart. I don’t need someone on my team who can’t treat his teammates with some respect.’ He was tired, exhausted, hungry and cold like everyone else here and all he wanted was a hot shower and lunch, maybe a place on the couch next to the fireplace in the common room afterwards and every minute Blaise wasted on his little mind games brought him closer to being thrown out.  
‘You only let Urquhart into the substitute team because Theo won’t play.’  
‘You’re always saying that I’m good with begging on my knees, maybe I can persuade him.’ Draco knew that the eyes of everyone in the room were on him and Blaise, but Draco was the captain and he made the rules, at least here, and he would teach Blaise that. Blaise must have seen that, because he rolled his eyes, holding his hands up in surrender, and said to Hestia, ‘Sorry I hit you.’  
‘It’s okay.’ She answered and headed into the girl’s showers with Fauna. Pan, Warrington and Blaise went to the other shower but Vaisey held Draco back, having a few suggestions for the training against Hufflepuff. Draco had wanted to brush him off, but one look at Blaise made him change his mind, and another half hour passed before he finally stood under a spray of hot water with the prospect of a warm meal in the immediate future in sight.

‘Hey Draco,’ Cormac called him over when Draco entered the half empty Great Hall. Both his and the Ravenclaw team sat scattered through the room, well the Ravenclaw team sat scattered through the room, his team were all at the Slytherin table with the exception of Hestia, who sat next to one of the Ravenclaw chasers. Blaise gave him a provocative grin, Draco returned it with a glare and sat down next to Cormac at the Gryffindor table, deeply enjoying the gaping from Potter and his fan club.  
‘You’re at the wrong table, Malfoy.’ Weasley sneered.  
‘As a prefect you should know that there are no seating rules,’ Draco shot back, ‘not that you could read them if there were.’  
‘And you’re apparently colour blind,’ Potter threw in, ‘red.’ He gestured to the Gryffindor table, ‘and green.’ He waved over to the Slytherin table.  
‘Potter, between the two of us I’m not the one who needs a tool to see who’s sitting next to me. Also I’m not the one who tried to follow the footsteps of his murderous godfather.’  
Potter paled at his words and kept his mouth shut.  
‘Here,’ Cormac nudged him slightly and pushed a bowl under Draco’s nose, filled with hot chicken soup, ‘You look like you need it.’  
Draco felt an absurdly big wave of gratefulness towards Cormac but managed to rein his emotions in, at least for now.

Last night’s celebration had been rather long and they both had come very late to breakfast. Draco had planned to do his Transfiguration homework today; it was due tomorrow and McGonagall was merciless when it came to punctuality, not that he had anything better to do, Draco thought resignedly. He owed Pansy a bottle Firewhiskey later in Hogsmeade for trading prefect duty with her this morning, which meant not only avoiding herding in a whole common room full of hyperactive students that couldn’t and wouldn’t go out in the current weather but also avoiding Blaise. Theo had somehow managed to find a book in library he hadn’t yet read and wouldn’t be responsive at least to dinner. Draco suspected that Theo was responsible for at least three quarters of the new books in the Hogwarts library, after all he was the only student Madame Finch had never thrown out of her realm or at least give a warning.  
‘I’m busy.’ Draco replied instantly. Cormac was in a suspiciously good mood and Draco really, really needed to write this essay.  
‘I’m back on the Quidditch team.’ Cormac exclaimed with a smug satisfaction.  
‘Did Weasley drop dead and I missed it?’ Draco asked dryly.  
‘Unfortunately not, but Potter can’t play because of his detention for hurting you, Ginny replaces him as a seeker, her brother replaces her and I replace him.’  
‘Nice, but I’m still busy.’  
‘Homework? Need any help?’  
‘I’ve done my homework without your help for six and a half years, and I will be able to do it for the next one and a half years.’  
‘Maybe we could celebrate later in Hogsmeade.’  
‘Sorry, I’m meeting Pansy.’   
‘You’re playing hard to get today,’ Cormac whispered roughly and stepped nearer.  
‘I am hard to get,’ Draco replied, ‘ask anyone.’  
‘Oh, from what I hear some people from your Quidditch team would like you to be a bit more unavailable more often.’  
‘Huh.’ Draco frowned. ’Who told you that?’  
‘People talk, even Slytherins.’ Cormac grinned, ‘See you later, then.’ And left.

The Hufflepuff Gryffindor match was both satisfying and embarrassing to watch. Satisfying because Gryffindor lost 60 to 320, mostly thanks to Cormac and Weasley, who had his useful moments as a keeper but was absolutely worthless as a chaser.  
Embarrassing because, well, Gryffindor used to be a worthy opponent for , but this year? Not so much.  
Spring only became better after that, since Draco finally managed to beat Potter in Potions, and every damn time, much to Slughorn’s utter puzzlement. Otherwise, he lost some of his time with Cormac since he needed, slowly but surely, to prepare for his NEWTs. He used his newly free time to spend with Crabbe and Goyle. He knew that it didn’t always seem so, but he genuinely liked both of them, not as his equals, of course not, but they were still his friends and they, too, had lost their fathers. Goyle seemed to process it better but then he had never been very close to his father.  
Easter came and went without anything interrupting the school’s routine. If his team had been hoping that after the victories against Gryffindor and Ravenclaw he would go easier on them because their last match was only against Hufflepuff they were sadly mistaken. The Hufflepuff team was stronger than ever, even without Diggory, and they were still flying on a high after the spectacular victory against Gryffindor. At least the weather was getting sunnier and warmer with each passing day.  
There were even moments now and then, when he was flying or sitting with his friends on the grass outside bathed in sunshine, or sleeping with Cormac, when he forgot for a few moments that his parents had been murdered, that he was in-- that he liked Blaise too much for his own good, that he had no idea how his life would turn out after the end of this school year.

It happened, precisely, on the second Friday after Easter after a Quidditch training that had gone remarkably well and had left Draco with the certainty that his team was going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. He had stayed behind, tidying up a bit when he heard voices just outside the changing rooms. Most likely it was Pan and Fauna with their usual bickering, Draco had always thought that twins were tight, but these two were like cats and dogs except on the Quidditch field.  
‘Shut your fucking mouth, McLaggen!’ He heard Blaise shout, apparently it wasn’t Pan and Fauna then.   
‘Or what?’ Cormac sneered, ‘You’re going to hex me, pretty boy?’  
‘I could, but I wouldn’t want to lower myself to your level.’  
‘My level? And what exactly is my level? My talents certainly don’t include prettiness.’  
‘They don’t include Quidditch either. Is that why you have such a preference for talented Quidditch players? Lissie, Duncan, Katie, Maxine, Draco, me.’  
Blaise had to be lying. He and Cormac couldn’t stand each other, hated each other like he hated Potter.  
‘As if you were so much better with a new girl hanging off of your arm every few weeks when you’d like nothing more than to fuck your “best friend” against the next wall, which I do and I can tell you he’s really good at it.’  
At least they both had the grace to blush when Draco stepped outside.  
‘Hey,’ Cormac gave him a forced smile, ‘I wanted to get you before you miss dinner again.’  
‘I’m capable of taking care of myself,’ Draco snapped at him and Cormac’s smile faltered instantly.  
‘Draco,’ Blaise began but Draco interrupted him before he could go further: ‘You’re a disgrace to Slytherin. Being a Slytherin is about being a true friend, not stabbing them in the back, but you Half-bloods are probably incapable of loyalty.’  
‘You want to lecture me on loyalty? It’s you who lets himself be fucked by a Gryffindor-‘  
‘Mr. McLaggen, Mr. Zabini, do I have to remind you that you’re not allowed to be outside the school building at this time.’ Interrupted Snape’s cold voice their fight before t could go out of hand.  
‘Mr. Malfoy.’ He made a barely discernable motion with his head, which meant Draco should follow him. He hadn’t met Snape outside the lessons since the day in Dumbledore’s office and wasn’t looking forward to whatever conversation they were going to have but he also didn’t want to stay with Cormac or Blaise.

Snape’s office hadn’t changed and Draco still found it disturbingly comforting and familiar.  
‘Sit down.’ Great, Snape was annoyed because of something, and Draco hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. He would never understand Snape’s penchant for telling people bad news on an empty stomach. At least he didn’t have any relatives that could die anymore, well, any relatives that he cared about to be precise. Although it would probably cheer him up if somebody would kill his aunt Bellatrix in a particularly gruesome fashion.  
‘I was told that you’re planning on leaving the school after this year.’  
‘I was considering it.’ There was no use denying it. Filch read all the letters and he was Snape’s friend, a reliable source.  
‘I cannot allow you to do this.’  
‘Allow me?’ Draco asked icily: ‘I’m turning 17 in July. You have not the power to dictate my actions after this, hell you have no power over me now. First you’re getting my parents killed so that you can rise in his esteem, and then you’re too much of a coward to face the consequences. He wants me dead? Fine, I’m here.’ Draco stood up and spread his arms wide from his body, daring Snape to attack him. He was his father’s son, a Malfoy and a Black and belonged to some of the oldest wizard families in the world while Snape was just another unworthy half blood, trying to get into his family’s good graces and betraying their loyalty. If the Dark Lord wanted Snape to kill him, too, he would probably not make it out alive, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.  
‘Your father was my friend,’ Snape said with ice-cold rage in his voice. ‘You have to stop acting like a child and honour the sacrifices your father, your mother and I have made to keep you alive.’  
‘Sacrifices? What sacrifices could you have made?’ Draco sneered, ‘You’re still alive.’  
Snape grabbed his arm.  
‘I swore an Unbreakable Oath to your mother that I would protect you. As soon as you set a foot outside of this school’s protection, you will be dead. Don’t lend yourself to illusions, Draco, there’s nothing and no one out there that will protect you from a slow, torturous death at your aunt’s hands.’  
‘There will be nothing and no one out there that will protect me next year, either,’ Draco argued back. He hadn’t been found worthy by his father to follow him as a Death Eater but he could still make his father proud, he hoped, by successfully continuing the company.  
‘It will be dealt with,’ Snape replied with a weird certainty. ‘One way or another.’  
‘That gives me great comfort,’ Draco said ironically, ‘but I could still die during the summer vacations and all your trouble will be for naught.’  
‘You will be placed in protective custody.’  
‘Why would the Ministry do all this? They can’t even protect their own people, but they’d go out of their way for me? All I have to offer is money, and if I go back to school for the next year probably not even that when the company has gone down.’  
‘Professor Dumbledore believes the life of every student valuable,’ Snape answered. ‘And I don’t disagree with him once you stop thinking that life is like a boarding school.’  
‘Potential for what?’ Draco asked suspiciously.   
Snape shrugged:  
‘Potential for whatever you want to become.’ Snape emphasized the word ‘you’ fleetingly as if by coincidence but that was the crux of the matter. Draco had never considered a life outside the one he had been losing over the past year, consequently his career counselling had been exceptionally brief last year.  
Draco brushed these thoughts aside, he could discuss them later, maybe with Pansy and Theo.  
‘I’ll think about it,’ he said calmly to Snape. Snape’s face was indecipherable but he didn’t stop Draco when he left.

Theo, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t in the common room and luckily neither were Blaise who was probably still eating dinner, which Draco had decided to skip. Pansy sat in one of the alcoves of the far side, though and waved at him when she saw him coming in.  
‘Hi,’ she said when he sat down, ‘you look like you need a drink.’ She put two glasses on the table and put the bottle of Firewhiskey they had opened on that Hogsmeade weekend on the table, and poured them both two full glasses.  
‘Thanks,’ he said, and drained half of the glass.  
‘I want to die,’ Draco exclaimed, staring into the clear liquid. Pansy began to laugh and he joined her.  
‘No, you don’t,’ She laughed.  
‘No, I don’t,’ He confirmed, ‘it would be a ridiculous waste of beauty and brains.’  
‘Nice to see you’re back to your old self.’ Pansy rolled her eyes.  
‘What are you talking about? I was never gone.’ Draco grinned, then changed the subject: ‘Did you know that Blaise slept with Cormac?’  
‘Everyone knew that. Blaise didn’t exactly make a secret out of it except for you. What are you going to do?’  
‘I don’t know.’ He took another drink: ‘Break up with Cormac, throw Blaise off of the team...I’m drunk.’  
‘No, you aren’t.’  
‘Officially I am, or this conversation has never happened.’ He emptied his glass and poured another:   
‘Boys are complicated.’  
‘Girls are complicated, boys are...stupid.’  
‘Did you ever have a crush on me?’ Because if she had, then there was a possibility that he and Blaise could learn to be friends again.  
‘On you?’ She raised her eyebrows: ‘No, not you. Blaise on the other hand, well who didn’t have a crush on Blaise at one point?’  
‘Theo? He hates jerks.’ It was hard to imagine that Theo had romantic feelings for anyone. He seemed to be too sophisticated for such mundane things.  
‘Theo doesn’t hate you,’ she pointed out.  
‘Geez, thanks Pansy. Your words are the balm on my battered soul,’ Draco replied sarcastically.  
‘You know that it’s true. That’s why you like Blaise so much because he’s the only one who would give you a run for the title of ‘jerk of the year’, not that some people don’t deserve it.’  
By the time they had finished to bottle he was drunk, drunk enough that it didn’t hurt when Blaise touched him when Draco told him flat out that he was off of the Quidditch team. They were only playing against Hufflepuff, after all, and if he couldn’t get Theo, then Urquhart would do as well.  
The next morning, however, was another matter. Drinking on an empty stomach was always a bad idea, and Draco loudly cursed the fact that they had windows despite living in a cellar, and thus sunlight.  
‘Here. Drink this.’ Someone pushed a mug in his hand and Draco drank blindly. It tasted like something had died in brackish water and left there to rot. So now besides having a headache from hell, his stomach felt like it would crawl out of his body at any moment.  
‘Didn’t you have something faster to kill me with, Blaise?’ Draco growled into his mattress where he hid from the annoying sunlight.  
‘You’re going to feel better soon.’  
‘I’m not the mood for your attempts to make amendments for sleeping with my boyfriend, and I’m not letting you back on the team.’  
‘I didn’t think you’d remember that.’  
‘I wasn’t that drunk,’ Draco pointed out, slowly feeling his headache clear.  
‘No, you weren’t,’ Blaise said quietly. Draco sat up.  
‘Seriously, did you poison me? You’re suspiciously nice.’  
‘I’m not that much of an arse.’  
‘No, just mostly.’  
‘You knew that when we became friends.’  
‘Is that what we are? Friends?’  
‘Is that what you want us to be?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘McLaggen seems to think otherwise.’  
‘Yesterday morning I would have asked, since when do you listen to Cormac since you hate him, but apparently you don’t.  
‘I didn’t think it would hurt you that much.’ But Blaise didn’t look at him.   
‘What did you expect to happen once I knew that you slept with my boyfriend?’ Draco snapped angrily. He felt disgustingly vulnerable in his pyjamas while Blaise was fully dressed: ‘In case you didn’t notice this between your weekly flings, Cormac was my first relationship and you ruined it just because you could. You want the title of the biggest arse in school? Congratulations, you have it, now get out of my face.’  
‘I want you, okay? I want you.’  
‘Too bad for you because you can’t have me,’ Draco seethed. He didn’t want to hear this, not now, not after everything that had happened.  
‘I could have had you.’ Blaise backed Draco against the nearest wall. ‘Every day during Christmas, and you wouldn’t have said no. You want to know why I didn’t do it? I respected you as a friend, that’s why. You’re saying I can’t have you? Can you also tell me that you didn’t dream about this?’  
‘Being raped by you on a sunny day in April?’ Draco bit out, ‘No, can’t say that I did.’ He pushed Blaise away and walked away from the wall, careful not to turn his back to Blaise.  
‘I want us to be friends again, someday,’ he said, ‘nothing more.’  
‘What if I want more?’  
‘I don’t think that would be healthy for either of us.’  
‘Love isn’t healthy. It makes you weak and vulnerable. Would it be that bad for you to be with me?’  
‘I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up now. You used the whole year to play with me, paint me as a Gryffindor’s whore.’  
‘Damn, Draco, I thought you would be leaving school. It was cheap entertainment for me to throw you into McLaggen’s arms and rip you away again when I thought that you would be dead soon and I thought it would be easier for you and me if you hated me.’  
‘Love in the Zabini family, huh? I love you so I’ll destroy everything you have left.’  
‘Something like that,’ Blaise shrugged.  
‘You realize that what you said only makes everything worse?’  
‘I’m not asking for your forgiveness.’  
‘You’re asking for something more.’  
‘Will you give it to me?’ Blaise sounded almost hopeful.  
‘No.’ He couldn’t. He still had a Quidditch cup to win, a life to plan, and maybe to fight for soon. If this thing with Blaise went wrong, and Draco strongly suspected that it would sooner or later, it would hurt too much. He was a Slytherin, reckless decisions were best made by Gryffindors not by him.  
‘So, we’ll be friends then.’ Blaise said slowly.  
‘Friends,’ Draco confirmed. For now at least, he thought. He knew better than to deal with absolute terms.  
‘I see you at breakfast then.’

Clap Clap Clap, came from the door nearly as soon as Blaise had left.  
‘You know I never thought that mixing Veritaserum and a mild love potion would have such an overwhelming effect.’ Theo said conversationally as if he was talking about the weather.  
‘Blaise will hate you when he finds out.’  
‘Fuck Blaise, this needed to end before one of you killed the other.’  
‘I didn’t know you cared.’ Draco teased lightly.  
‘If the things I know and you don’t were water drops, the lake would be twice its size,’ Theo answered with a dry smile.  
‘You know that I need you on the team in two weeks against Hufflepuff?’  
‘You’re obsessed with this sport.’ Theo rolled his eyes but he didn’t say no, yet. ‘Ask Uruquart, I’m not interested.’  
‘Okay, fine.’  
‘What are you going to do?’ Theo asked.  
‘Getting dressed, eat breakfast, win the Quidditch cup, hopefully humiliate Potter into leaving the school or the whole wizard community in disgrace. Afterwards? No idea.’ He grinned.  
The future was wide open with possibilities.


End file.
